


Circles of Confusion

by azhawritesreylo



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, Alternate Universe - Photographer, Alternate Universe - Romantic Comedy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Romance, Birthday Fluff, Birthday Sex, Boss/Employee Relationship, Boyfriend Ben Solo, CEO Kylo Ren, Double Life, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Smut, I'm Bad At Tagging, Karaoke, Loss of Virginity, Multi, Office Party, One Night Stands, POV Rey (Star Wars), Photo Shoots, Playlist, Reylo - Freeform, Reylo AU Week, Secret Identity, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Soft Ben Solo, Songfic, Virgin Rey (Star Wars), im a sucker for fluff tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:54:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 32,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23751142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azhawritesreylo/pseuds/azhawritesreylo
Summary: Two strangers and a night out in New York City—what can go wrong?Rey Johnson is just turning twenty-one but she’s already one of the most respected names in a well-known advertising agency. But being the best can cost you. And it doesn’t help that her mentor (and CEO), the infamous Ms. O, just announced that she’s retiring—leaving her in the hands of her mysterious new boss.Ben Solo needs another gig. A photographer in the morning and a for-hire boyfriend at night doesn’t really pay much. But when his folks contact him after a decade of radio silence and offers him a job, he’s ready to do whatever it takes to get back on their good side. As a last hurrah, he takes one more job as someone’s fake boyfriend and meets who could be his greatest inspiration yet.
Relationships: Finn/Rose Tico, Kylo Ren/Rey, Poe Dameron/Finn, Rey & Rose Tico, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 16
Kudos: 72





	1. Work Too Much - Julia Michaels

**Author's Note:**

> or when Rose Tico booked Rey the most expensive stand-in boyfriend: Kylo Ren.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a day like any other day except you find out your boss is retiring, there's a company party you don't want to go to, and your bestfriend tells you she's moving out of the apartment. Also, it's your birthday. Yay?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> # I hear my boyfriend's beautiful//I haven't seen him, though

I always imagine the opening number in Funny Face when I come into the office.

But this isn’t a fashion magazine. We don’t even have those multi-colored doors they painted pink halfway through the first five minutes. We just have an open office space with high ceilings and white walls. My boss isn’t Kay Thompson and I’m not Audrey Hepburn. 

I’m not a bookstore attendant who transforms into an international model. I wanted to be, once upon a time, before Ms. O took me in as her assistant. I was just a scrawny kid who didn’t have enough documents to say that I was qualified for the job. I was nearing twenty and had just flown to America without any concrete plans. But it was an urgent hiring and Ms. O was generous enough to hire me. When I asked her why, thinking it was a mistake—I still do—she just said that I was efficient. And I had spunk.

Where that spunk is now, I’ve no idea.

Now she tells me she’s retiring—on my birthday.

“But Ms. O—” I started to say but she wasn’t having it.

“I’ve made up my mind.”

“Of course, Ms. O,” I relent, mostly out of respect but also because it wasn’t really my place to convince her otherwise. “And what of our new boss…?” I dared to ask, praying to god she doesn’t say it’s going to be Dameron. 

“He’s ruthless, efficient, and demanding,” Ms. O replies immediately. Then she turns to me and smirks. “You’re perfect for each other.”

“Me?” I asked, surprised.

“Why, are you quitting now too? Did I miss the memo?” She retorts sarcastically.

I sighed. “No, ma’am, but—”

“Relax,” and she laughs a little but it doesn’t relax me one bit. “He doesn’t bite.” Ms. O pauses, looks up, and genuinely rethinks her statement. “Not that I know what he’s up to these days.”

Definitely not Dameron, I concluded. Who is he?

“So why hire him?” I ask, wondering if I should just quit now before it gets worse. I haven’t completed my training with her yet and if I’m going to have a new boss who may or may not be into biting people then—

“Because he’s been preparing for this since he was in diapers whether he likes it or not,” she mutters. “I should know.”

 _I should know_. The words ring in my head like a clue. This means she’s close to him. This means he’s family. This means—

“Your son,” I whisper, realizing it.

Ms. O looks at me and smiles but it was the kind of smile I didn’t understand. It was sad, but I couldn’t figure out why. 

So I said the only thing I know would comfort her. “I’m sure he’ll be a fitting leader in our company.”

“That’s the spirit,” she commends, looking back to her computer. “Is the party tonight? I forget.”

The company is throwing a small bash for my birthday. I’ve heard from Rose that it was actually Ms. O’s idea (but it’s unlikely she’ll ever admit it). I turned bashful at the mention of it now and nodded. 

“Maz’s?” She asks.

“Booked and ready,” I reply. “It’s at eight o’clock.”

Ms. O winces. “Is it that early?”

I bite down at my lower lip and nod again. “Mr. Dameron told me it would be the time you’re best expected.”

This time, it was her who was nodding. “Well, that’s usually true. But I have another business to attend to.”

I flip through my black book quickly. “Which one of our clients is it?” I ask, certain I’ve missed it. “Will you need me to accompany you?”

“No, no,” she says. “It’s a personal matter.”

 _Oh_. I stop and look up at her.

“I’ll try to make it,” she adds but without promise. Then she grins at me knowingly and says, “I’ll make it before you leave.”

I shy away, feeling a bit sheepish.

“Even at your own party, you’re planning to make a run for it, aren’t you?” She asks rhetorically. Ms. O removes her glasses and looks at me earnestly. “You have to get yourself out there, Rey,” she tells me. “The world is wide open, especially for people like you.”

What kind of people is that? I wanted to ask. I didn’t even seem to know. 

“I’ll see you later then,” and I knew I was dismissed. Before I could leave through the glass doors however, she held me up. “Oh, and Rey…?”

I turn around, almost tripping over my heels. “Yes?”

“Happy birthday.”

The moment I was out of her office and seated at my own desk, I let out a heavy sigh. I’ve been working in this company for only two years but I’ve learned so much. And Ms. O was more than willing to overlook my lack of requirements so long as I delivered. What if my new boss doesn’t? What if he looks for diplomas and degrees? I was getting worried. Not to mention my current mentor is quitting on me and my unresolved abandonment issues are resurfacing quicker than you can say _disaster_.

The phone rings, breaking me out of my depressing reverie. I answer after the first ring, force of habit, and as usual a man’s voice greets me on the other end.

_“Hi. Can I speak to my…Leia Organa? She’s expecting my call.”_

I snorted, finding the anomaly a little funny. “She’s not yours, sir. Frankly, she’s very adamant about that,” I kid before I could stop myself. 

Which I should have. 

But I didn’t. 

Because _I AM AN IDIOT_. 

“I’m sorry—” I start to say.

But then he surprises me with a little laugh, somewhat agreeing with me. _“Yeah, she’s definitely no one’s.”_

I thank my stars that he’s not one of those jackasses who are all ‘time is money’ and just wants me to—

_“Do you mind if I speak with her though?”_

Ah, there it is. I tell him to hold and call in Ms. O. I ask if she’s expecting anyone to call her (quite anonymously) and after a few seconds, she makes me patch it through so I do. When I look up, peering through her glass walls, I see the familiar furrowed brow followed by her shaking her head. I was so caught up watching this that I didn’t realize Rose was sprawled out on my counter, looking at me funny. 

“I just heard the news,” she tells me.

The blues return and I can only sigh in response. Then I look at her carefully. Her dark eyes had a glint to them and her grin was wider than usual.

“What are you so happy about?”

Rose giggles. “Ugh!” She exclaims a bit loudly, jumping at me like a mad rabbit. “I was going to wait till we were at the party but I figured you would’ve wanted a heads up and it won’t be fun if you’re going to get mad at me later—”

 _Uh-oh,_ my inner voice chimes in. That wasn’t good. I’ve been living with Rose for—well, since I came _here_ —and when she’s rambling like this, it’s never a good sign. And if she’s mentioning getting angry at her—that’s worse.

“What did you do?” I ask, nervous. 

“Do you really want to know?” She asks, almost to herself. Then she shakes it out and pushes a white envelope in my direction. Rose’s grin stretched from ear to ear. “Happy birthday, please don’t get mad at me!”

Still suspicious, I take it and open it slowly. It was just a greeting card (very cheesy too) but it was just like Rose to get me a birthday card with a cartoon of a dog. “Thanks—” I start to say, wondering what it is that would make me angry. Then I open it.

_Happy birthday, bitch!_

“This isn’t even offensive—” but my laugh was cut short when a smaller card slips out. “What’s this?”

“It’s a ticket,” she replies, the smugness visible in the arch of her left brow. “Well, kind of like a coupon or something, really.”

I inspect it carefully. The writing on the front was so curvy that I couldn’t make it out. “For what…?” I ask now.

Her bright childish grin didn’t falter even as she said the following words, “A man.”

Sirens started sounding out and I was all for giving it back. “No,” I said immediately, putting it all back neatly in the envelope. “Rose.”

“Rey,” she whines, making me wince. “We thought it was a good idea! And if you look it up, he’s quite the catch—”

“I am not into—” and I drop my voice so no one would overhear us (if they haven’t already), “— _prostitution_.”

“It’s not like that!” She giggles again. 

“And what is it with this ‘we’ thing? Who did you coerce into this?”

“Just Finn,” she reassures me. “He picked him out, actually.”

That’s weird. Then again, it’s like their life’s mission to keep pushing the limits of our friendship. “You got Finn to do _this_?” I demanded. “Tell him he’s getting roasted.”

Rose brushes this off. “Come on. Just take a look, please?”

But I was off in my own thoughts, rambling myself. “First, Ms. O tells me off and now you guys?” When I looked at her, I looked at her pointedly. “I’m not lonely, you know.”

“But you’re alone,” she points out.

“Hardly,” I retort. “We live together, in case it slipped your notice.”

This time, Rose signs. That’s a bad sign too. It might be the worst one. “Yeah…we have to talk about that,” she says.

Then she tells me. She and Finn have been talking about moving in together. But I’m getting in the way. Not that she said it. Rose will never say anything to hurt me. And yet…too many things are changing today. They’re slipping out of place, one by one, and I don’t think I’ll be able to hold it together if they would keep shifting on me. I mean, I’m all for good changes. I’m happy for all of them, really. Ms. O probably needs her retirement. Rose and Finn need to take their relationship to the next level. That’s all good. It’s fantastic—

 _Then why do I feel so left out?_ I wondered.

Maybe I am a bit lonely. But I wasn’t going to admit that to Rose now. 

“It’s good,” I decided. “It’s about time.”

“You think so?” She asks carefully. “I mean, I don’t want to rush anything—”

“Yes,” and I meant it. “You and Finn are great together. This is a step in the right direction.” I held out for her hand and she took it. “But I don’t need company. Honestly, I’m fine.”

“Okay, but—” and just like that, Relentless Rose strikes again. “—you have to hear me out. This is just a one-day thing, you know.”

“What?” I groan, pulling away. 

“It doesn’t have to be long term,” she says.

“That’s what prostitution states too.”

“No,” and she laughs, pushing on. “It’s not about sex, Rey. Or maybe it could be. I haven't read the fine print—” I groan again. “—it’s a clean and decent service, trust me. They provide dreamboats for a day, and it doesn’t have to be a date if you don’t want it to. They’ll just give you _someone to be there with you_. It's a twenty-four hour boyfriend.”

“Wow. That sounds appealing,” I note with a tablespoon of sarcasm. 

“Come on,” she pleads again. “You’ll never know unless you try it.”

“I don’t need it. And to be perfectly frank, that’s only going to ruin my chances to meet someone. I mean, what if I meet him tonight but I showed up with this fake boyfriend?”

“You don’t even meet with anyone,” she points out. 

“But I might,” I say. “Or this man, whoever he is, he could be the one. He could be the guy of my dreams but he’s not _real_ and in real life, he turns out to be bozo who doesn’t even like Harry Potter.”

Rose makes a face. “That’s a stretch. No one dislikes Harry Potter, Rey.”

“ _He_ might!” 

“Just…please? _Please?_ ” And she taps on the envelope which she had successfully returned to me. “You can log in and see their terms and conditions, the whole shebang.”

Then Rose pulls out the big guns, giving me her best puppy dog eyes.

I sigh, defeated. “Alright,” I say because there’s no point arguing when Rose is this hyped. 

She claps her hands together like a kid. “Love you!” It felt like I was the one giving her the gift and not the other way around. Then again, maybe I was. 

“Love you too, wacko.”

Rose blows me a kiss and skips off to her cubicle. 

If I was even remotely interested in hooking up with anyone, this is certainly not in my bag of tricks. I’m not that desperate. 

Two and a half hours later, I find myself skimming their site and browsing through their list of services and directional…um, _use_. 

The website looked official enough, very sophisticated. It was simple with a beige background and dummy-proof maneuverability. In big Garamond-font letters read: _NIGHTS WITH REN._ Front and center. No pictures of nude guys. 

Actually, there were no pictures at all. There’s even a soothing violin playing in the background. I honestly expected a cheesy and overrated site similar to those instructional videos (don’t ask) but so far, it’s all been neat and very structured. It’s even on the level of five-star hotel websites.

At the bottom of the page, there was an inscription.

_An official Love Provider service for those in need of a companion during special occasions and other daily activities, NIGHTS WITH REN is exclusive to members of Love Provider only._

This must be truly expensive. I have to ask Rose later about how she got this in the first place. In the meantime, I click on one of the tabs at the top that says _Deals and Promos_ . There were three bars with titles (the promos, I assume); _Back-to-Back_ , _Weekend Sale,_ and _Double Dates._ I opt for another tab then, not wanting to see or even understand what those imply. 

I click on _Employees_ and it rolls out with two categories: men and women. I choose men but, much like a mystery novel (or an amateur dating show), there were cards with mere silhouettes. No pictures. Underneath each one was an empty bar, asking for a pin code.

“How exclusive is this thing?” I wonder aloud.

Defeated, I finally click the _About Us_ link and begin to read what it is that made Rose book this gig. She must’ve seen their ad on Instagram. As I read on, I realize that this is legit. I don’t know why it took me so long but I guess I’m a skeptic that way. These aren’t prostitutes (although they explained that ‘gigs’ are more likely to be approved for night appointments from 6pm to midnight to preserve the employee’s choice to do other work commitments). In fact, they’re extremely professional about it. 

For one thing, Love Provider is a First Order Business branch. FOB is one of the most coveted retail companies in the country. I also learned that LP is the hottest dating service of the year. They can provide copies of police clearances and necessary information of their employees to ensure security, especially if their contract should exceed twenty-four hours. I checked most of their service offers but it all said the same thing: they’re willing to provide a real living person to be your _boyfriend_.

Although it screams HUMAN TRAFFICKING, it’s all legal. The employees are varied based on your needs (from weddings, funerals, birthdays, company outings, and family reunions, among others). They always have a note at the bottom insisting to keep schedules to a twenty-four hour basis at least. 

“Where do they get these people?” I mutter to myself as I read on. “’No employee is allowed to engage in intimate, demeaning, illegal, and violent acts during the period to which they are booked. Any complaint by the client will result in immediate termination and any other necessary action to further protect the customer.’ That’s cool.” I noted all of these in my head, just so I know my rights in this weird transaction.

“What are you reading?” Kaydel appears out of the blue and peeks over my shoulder. “What’s that?”

I’ve never closed a window so fast and tried to shrug it off nonchalantly. “NSFW to be honest,” I whisper. “These _fics_ are really getting hot and heavy.”

She doesn’t look like she believes me but she gives me a weird look of disapproval. “Anyway,” she says, dismissive. “We need your help setting up the new boss’s office. Ms. O just left for a lunch meeting.”

I look back at her office and find it empty.

 _Bugger_ , I thought. _I was so busy I didn’t notice._

Kaydel hands over a list and I stand up, grabbing my things. 

“What do you need?”

  
  


I don’t like to think that my colleagues hate me. 

But sometimes, I do wonder if they actually like me. I mean, gift baskets aren’t supposed to be heavy, are they?

They certainly shouldn’t be _this_ heavy. And I don’t think it qualifies as a basket if it’s made out of sterling metal or something—and _without_ a handle. Not to mention the different shops I had to go to just for cheese and crackers.

“Why couldn’t they just ask me to buy a bottle of wine and stick a ribbon on it?” I grumbled aloud. 

_Six different shops plus the basket ‘curator’ or whatever it is you call a service just to compile all of this crap_ , I thought. _They do realize they can order this thing as a whole, right?_

“They could!” I scream at myself. “But they didn’t!” 

The worst part about carrying something that’s half my weight is the inability to take a cab for it. They knew I would never take a cab if it’s only a couple of streets down the office and besides, hailing a taxi _with this thing_ is an accident waiting to happen. It’s also a huge waste of time. Not to mention the traffic. The over-the-top decoration—multiple ribbons? Really?—is also a contributing factor. 

I can’t even see.

“Oh! Wait! Miss—” a voice exclaims after me and soon I have strong arms holding me upright just as I trip over a hose clumsily laid out on the street. 

I see its owner, the local flower shop man, rushing over to grab it. He mutters his apologies to me and disappears from my view. 

“Stupid basket,” I mutter.

I look at the hands still holding me but I can’t even see who it is on the other side. I try to say thank you, inching away from his grasp.

“You saved me a great deal of trouble right there,” I add.

“You’re welcome,” and he actually sounds relieved. “Do you need me to carry that for you? I can walk you over to where you’re going. Or is taking a cab much safer than walking with a stranger?”

I laugh at that. “Actually, I’m pretty close by. But thank you.”

“Sure,” he says but he didn’t sound like it. 

I start to move but I hear him call out again. 

“Mind if I walk with you anyway?”

# 


	2. Blank Space - Taylor Swift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You meet a cute guy, start up a conversation, and then you part ways. No numbers exchanged. No names. But, it's your lucky day! You run into the same guy twice, start up another conversation, but then find out he has a girlfriend. 
> 
> What a coincidence! You have a boyfriend too! 
> 
> You just haven't met him yet. 
> 
> Or have you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> # Nice to meet you, where you been?//I could show you incredible things

Part of my New Year’s resolution is saying yes to things that scare me. 

And it was partly a good idea—at first. I mean, I’m all for chivalry, believe me. But for some reason, I felt better carrying the basket myself (despite making me unable to breathe properly). There’s just the issue that I don’t actually know this person and he could be a thief. It would be so easy for him to run away with this thing with arms like that. 

We’ve been walking for two minutes and that’s all I’ve seen of him yet. Not that I judge people by their looks but it’s better to be safe.

_ Am I thinking too much? _

“Hmm?” He murmurs.

“What?” I ask. 

_ Was I thinking out loud again? _

“I thought you were saying something,” he replies. “So…you’re really not going to let me carry that for you?”

“I’m fine,” I promised. 

“I believe you,” he says, but there was a tone of teasing in his voice. “Just making sure.”

“You really don’t have to come with me the entire way,” I reassured him. “I can manage—”

Just then his hand grips my arm carefully, tugging me close to him, as a cyclist passes by. I almost let the basket topple over, breathing a sigh of relief when I see his other arm cradling the front of the basket for support.

“Thanks.”

“So,” and I can nearly hear a smile in his voice. “Do you like your job?”

I laugh as we continue walking on. “That’s necessary, I think.”

“Good,” he remarks. “Not everyone likes their job.”

“That’s because people have hobbies and passion, all of us, but not everyone is driven by them. Some are lucky enough to work in an environment they choose, some less so.” I find myself replying, surprised at myself for being so… _ profound _ .

He chuckles, but I can tell that he agrees with me for some reason. “That’s very insightful.”

“How about you, what do you do?” I ask, trying to shift the attention away from what I just said. 

“I guess I can count myself as one of the lucky ones,” he says. “I’m a photographer. But I also do a lot of side projects because passion doesn’t always pay so well. I might be getting in another field soon but…” he trails off and for a brief moment I think he left me.

“But what…?” I ask aloud, risking looking like an idiot talking to no one. 

When he continued, I was undoubtedly relieved. “I don’t know,” he says. “I’m not sure it’ll fit me.”

“Like baggy clothes,” I mutter like a moron, my failed attempt at humor.

And yet he chuckles again. “Yes, like baggy clothes.”

“Will the work be demanding?” I try to be serious this time. He’s helping me not fall on my face—succeeding twice—and the best I can do is be a stranger you can talk to. 

“Yes,” he admitted. “But then again, every work worth doing should be.”

“True,” I murmur, almost to myself. “Is it something you picture yourself doing?”

And without pausing for a beat, he says, “For the longest time.”

“Then what is it that worries you?” I ask in earnest. “If you don’t mind me asking, that is,” I added shyly, realizing that I am just a complete stranger and I didn’t want to seem like I’m prying.

“I’m—” he pauses. “I’m not sure I can lead.”

“You’re leading me right now,” I point out, chuckling. “And I can see where I’m heading for the most part. I haven’t tripped or bumped my head into the asphalt, or impaled myself with this ridiculous basket.”

He laughs too, the kind that wasn’t overwhelming. Actually, it was borderline cute and sincere like I just made him feel better.

“I think you’ll do great.”

“Thank you,” he says. “And uh, you’re here—I think.”

“Is it the building made of glass?” I ask, turning sideways. 

“Yep,” and the ‘p’ pops like a cork off of a champagne bottle.

I breathe a sigh of relief, watching my vague reflection standing next to a tall man with wavy hair and a crisp-looking jacket. “Thank you,” I say to him. “Really, thank you. But I won’t shake your hand because I lost feeling in mine.” This stupid basket will tear my limbs off.

The stranger laugh again and this time, it was the kind that made me believe I was actually a little funny.

“Good luck,” he says a bit awkwardly.

“You too,” I reply, seeing our reflections shadowed by this massive building go from a pair to a single. Like always. 

I sigh, this time out of cowardice. He seemed really nice. And for the first time in  _ months _ , I finally had a decent conversation with a man and I didn’t do anything about it.

_ Well, neither did he _ , I reminded myself. 

I try to catch his reflection, just for a glimpse of his face, but Old Wick—our security guard—had already opened the doors for me and I couldn’t keep him waiting. The photographer was gone anyway.

I walk inside.

  
  


Armitage was still waiting for me back at the shop.

He was fiddling with his own camera, brows furrowed, and I’m not sure if it’s just me or if his hair actually turns redder when he’s peeved. As soon as I pulled the doors open, his head snapped up. His brows remained pulled together like pretzels at the top of his nose.

“Nice of you to come back,” he grumbles, his accent thicker than his five o’clock shadow. “You can’t just go off whenever you feel like it, you know.”

“I was just helping out,” I replied, laughing a bit. “Besides, she looked familiar. I thought—”

“It’s always the women with you, isn’t it?” He retorts. “Poor helpless women needing your manly strength,” and if he could at the ground I was standing on, I imagine he would have. 

“Alright, alright,” I say with my arms up in mock surrender. “I was just trying to—”

“Save it, Ren.” Armi rolls his eyes at me. “You went off on your little walk and we lost three customers. How are you going to pay for that?”

I sigh and flashed him my most winning smile. “I do what I always do,” I say. “I work.”

As I get behind the counter, my phone starts ringing. My mother’s face flashes on the screen, the only photo I have of her saved up. I raise my finger at Armi, promising one second, before quickly disappearing to the back room. I answered on the third ring and what came at me was a loud, frustrated sigh.

_ “It’s about time you picked up,” _ she says, disapprovingly. 

“I thought you wouldn’t miss me right away,” I replied. “We did just have lunch together.”

Mom groans at me from the other end.  _ “Listen up. There’s a company party later on that I want you to get to. It’ll be a great chance for you to meet your future coworkers.” _

“Or I can meet them all on Monday,” I suggested. “I don’t think it’ll be that fun to meet your future boss. Besides, it’s a Friday.”

_ “You have to take this seriously, Ben.”  _ There it is; the sound of impending disappointment.  _ “There’s no one better suited for the job than you.” _

“Is that a compliment?”

_ “I’m willing to retract it if that’s what you want.” _

I smile. I may be a handful but my mother is a tough woman to beat at this game.

_ “Just try,” _ she says.  _ “That’s all I’m asking of you.” _

“I am,” I promised. “But I’m not going tonight. That’s my final say on that.”

She hangs up just as Armi calls me from the counter. I shut my phone and get back to work. 

  
  


I hauled the basket off of the elevator when it stopped on our floor. 

I was more than relieved to realize that our new boss’s office was the one closest to the elevator. But I knew I’d still have to walk across the office in my sweat-drenched clothes to retrieve my dry ones from my drawer. I always keep a pair of pants and some blouses just in case I need to change for an important meeting. 

Just as I turn the corner however, still carrying this metal gift basket, I see a couple of colorful balloons littering the floor and a lineup of shoes waiting for me.

“SURPRISE—” They all yelled, making me yelp in absolute terror. 

“Jesus Christ!” Thankfully, I didn’t drop the basket on my feet, but I felt myself tilting. “Thank you but—”

All of them, I noticed, were wearing party hats like they were twelve. Rose was dead center, holding up my birthday cake. Finn was right by her side, next to a scowling Poe, our executive manager. They began singing a depressing version of ‘Happy Birthday,’ coming towards me like zombies about to eat my brains. And despite it being a horror show I appreciate so much, I was more than willing to break it off.

“Help me!” 

Finn grabbed the basket before I completely tumbled off. After that, I blew out my candles and started eating cake around what was soon to be our boss’s office. 

“I can’t believe Ms. O’s retiring,” Kaydel muses. “Has anyone heard about who’s replacing her?”

I keep my mouth shut, enjoying the frosting on my cake. However, when I looked up, they were already staring at me. “No clue,” I say, short and simple.

But Rose only smirks at me. “Liar,” she mouthed.

I decided it was the perfect time to tell them about the stranger who helped me get back. I told them about how easy it was to speak with him and how he guided me by touching my arm. 

“You seriously find that romantic?” Poe remarks as he passes by.

I resisted the urge to stick my tongue out. 

Kaydel only had one issue. “He didn’t insist on carrying it for you?”

Jannah brought to life my inner voice. “You meet a guy you like and you let him slip away like that?”

“Wait,” Rose says, looking at me funny. “Don’t you have a boyfriend?”

Both Kaydel and Jannah shot me looks of disbelief. “You have a boyfriend?” And then they started to ask a lot more questions that I had no idea how to answer.

I narrow my eyes at Rose. “It’s not that serious,” I say, in hopes I could deflect any unnecessary questions in the meantime. 

“He’s coming to the party later,” Rose pushed on. “Right, Rey?”

The two women gaped at me. 

“I cannot believe you wouldn’t tell us this!” Kaydel exclaims, feigning—well, whatever it is she’s feigning. 

I almost made a face but luckily Jannah says, “You have to introduce us.”

“Sure,” I mutter, trying not to purse my lips as the women stalked off, talking amongst themselves. I glare at Rose. “That was a cheap move, Tico.”

“You were never going to do it!” 

“Didn’t I already say that I would?” I demanded.

“Yeah, but now you can’t back down.”

I dragged out a breath. “Why is this so important to you?”

Rose looks away. “I’ve just been hearing stuff, that’s all.”

“What stuff?”

“Bad stuff,” she murmurs under her breath. When she finally did look back at me, there was only concern there. “I just don’t want people to think the worst of you, you know? You’re my friend.”

_ So I was right _ , I thought to myself. Two years wasn’t enough to win these people over. 

I sighed and grabbed Rose for a hug. “It’s not your job to clean up after me,” I say. “But thank you for always looking out for me—you’re the only real friend I have here, you know.”

“Don’t forget Finn,” she tells me, chuckling. “So…are you in?”

I pulled away, raising my brow at her. “Do I really have a choice?” 

Rose laughs and shakes her head at me. “Not one bit.”

  
  


Apparently, Rose and Finn decided that my fake boyfriend and I have been going out for three weeks.

The explanation: “We thought it wasn’t too soon to invite him to your birthday and it wasn’t too long as to not have mentioned it in the office. You’re a private person, Rey. You can pull this off.”

_ I can pull this off, _ I thought. And then I asked;

“Where did we meet exactly?” I haven’t seen the light of day in  _ weeks _ , not since that Italian campaign found its way to our agency. Ms. O and I have been working on it day and night. It would’ve been impossible for me to have actually met someone while doing—well,  _ anything _ .

“That’s easy,” Rose said. “iHop.”

“Are you serious?” I asked, baffled. “Out of all the places you could’ve chosen—”

“I know you would value a less generic meet-cute—” she tried to reason. 

“And that seemed less generic to you?”

“Well, it’s not a bar,” she countered. “You’ve never even been to a bar.”

“Thanks for reminding me.” I groaned inwardly.

“You love pancakes,” she points out, like this justified it. “That’s one thing you have in common by the way.”

“You’ve met him?”

“Over the phone.”

“And?”

I wasn’t curious. No, this isn’t about curiosity. This is about self-preservation. But Rose didn’t see it that way. 

She only smiled wider, teasing. “He’s charming. And he’s very keen on helping you out.”

“With what?” I demanded, annoyed for the billionth time. 

“Getting a  _ real _ boyfriend,” she replies. “He’s going to show you the ropes of what the dating scene looks like now.”

“You talk as if I’m fifty-two.”

“You might as well be,” she retorts. “You never go out and you haven’t had any real experience.”

“I have experience!”

“Yeah, back in England—when you were like, twelve, or whatever,” she mutters disapprovingly. “All I’m saying is, in due time, it’ll be weird to go on a date and come up empty-handed when they ask you about past relationships. You can get bamboozled out there if you’re too innocent—”

“I am  _ not  _ too innocent—”

“And imagine if you’re on the other end of that conversation. You’ll probably think that they have such high standards! You’ll be intimidated, won’t you? Worse, they’ll think something’s wrong with you—like mentally—because no one’s ever tried. A brief history of a relationship—”

“—a fake relationship,” I interjected.

“—is a good reference,” Rose concluded. “Trust me on this.”

“You don’t have to go  _ that _ far as to imply I’m unstable just because I’ve never had a boyfriend,” I say.

“Oh, but  _ they _ will,” she tells me. 

“It’s still lying, Rose.”

“It’s experience,” she insists. “When you finally do meet someone, this one little lie wouldn’t even matter. Maybe you can even laugh about it with them. But for the meantime, you need this. And it’ll give you something to bond over with the others, you know?”

_ It’s my version of a beard, I guess _ .

So that’s how I ended up stuck in front of a mirror for an hour and a half with Rose doing my make-up (and Finn assisting her), wearing my best long-sleeve plum blouse, a glittery skirt that I haven’t worn since I was nineteen, and my strappy heels. 

Rose was proud of her handiwork when she was finished. The blush across the bridge of my nose and cheeks gave an impression I was drunk (but Finn reassured me that was ‘in’ these days) and the dark lipstick to match made my lips really pronounced. I was actually surprised Finn did my eyebrows. It was stunning work. I was all set, like I was really going on a date, and I felt so ridiculous. 

“This is a work event,” I reminded them as I stared at the mirror. “I look too—”

“Hot?” Rose suggested. “It’s perfect. For someone who has a boyfriend, that’s how you’re supposed to look on a special occasion.”

“I don’t look too pale?” I asked, examining myself. “Is my hair too tousled?”

“You look just right, Rey,” Finn replied. “Now let’s get going. It’s nearly eight.”

“I’m going to walk,” I said without a second thought.

“In high heels…?” Rose demanded, incredulous.

“These are little heels,” I countered. “But I’ll wear my flats first and bring these. You know I don’t go out like this anyway.”

“You’re not bailing, are you?” She asked in a little voice, almost like a kid. Honestly, I did consider skipping the whole thing despite the pep talk, but I knew that Rose and Ms. O were right. I have to get out there, one way or another. 

“I just need a little air,” I said. 

And they let me go. I guess they figured I needed the space and that I can have at least a little time to sulk before I have to put on this show for everyone else. Not that I asked for it. Not that I wanted it, but because Rose was worried about my reputation in the office. I mean, I am worried too. I don’t want to be the girl that everyone secretly hates. 

I can pretty much figure out why. Apart from Rose, Finn, and Ms. O, there’s really no one else I’ve become close with these past two years. All I do is work and I’ve been afraid of letting people down that I ended up avoiding them altogether. Being close to the boss didn’t really help the situation either, but what was I supposed to do? She was the one training me after all. 

If having a fake boyfriend for a night and acting like a normal person at this small gathering is all it takes then I’ll give it a try. This is not just about my future romantic relationship but my relationship with the people I work with.

“Man, I really need to get a life,” I tell myself. 

It was seven-fifty on the dot and I was just a block away from Maz’s Place. Rose has already called me twice, checking up on me. But now that I was actually close, I started losing my nerve. I tried to breathe normally but I could feel the weight of it all pressing against my chest. It was like prepping up for a show—and it  _ is _ a show. It’s a spectacle for everyone to admire or hate, but undeniably have to watch. Too much of this night relied on theatrics.

There’s a good reason why I kept to myself. This is why. 

_ I can’t do this. I can’t do this. _

Now I have to spout out rehearsed lines and dialogues for the entire night just to keep up appearances—or at least seem normal in  _ their  _ eyes.

“What a load of bollocks,” I breathed out.

I’m shaken to my core. The urge to vomit is strong and all I can do is stand over a trash bin, waiting for the worst to come. 

_ Two years _ , I thought.  _ It’s been two years and it still feels like my first day. I’m still waiting on their approval and their trust— _

I should back out. I don’t really have to do this. I’ll quit my job. I’ll go back to England. 

_ No. I can’t go back, _ I told myself, remembering why I had to leave in the first place. 

I groan at the garbage can in front of me very loudly, frustrated and hyperventilating.

“Do you want me to beat that thing up?” A voice suddenly asks and it occurred to me in that moment how ridiculous it is to be caught being upset with an inanimate object.

“Great,” I muttered. “Now I look demented.”

A man in a plain gray shirt and black blazer comes over to me. I can tell he was in the middle of fixing his hair by the way his hand is suspended in mid-air, using the shop window opposite us as a mirror. He was tall, like you can spot him in any big crowd, and I always appreciated a guy with some height. His fitting black jeans were proof of how big he is. The height, I mean.

“No, you just look nervous,” he reassures me. “You okay?” He asks now and something about his voice triggers something in the back of my mind. “Miss…?”

_ Miss. _

_ Miss. _

_ Miss! _

“You—” and I couldn’t help but grin. “Earlier today, I think we met!”

He looked at me for a moment and suddenly his eyes widened in recognition too. “Gift Basket Girl,” he says, chuckling to himself. “I should’ve known it was you.”

_ I should really stop talking to myself in public _ , I noted.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

We stayed there, grinning from ear to ear, and I had the sense to ruin it.

“Glad to finally meet you,” I say, offering my hand. “I can shake your hand now,” I point out. “No more gift baskets.”

He chuckles again and takes it. For a minute, I think he won’t let go. Something inside me didn’t want him to. But soon we both had to pull away.

“Where are you headed?”

I pointed at Maz’s general direction. “Just up at the corner,” I say.

“Do you always walk to places or do you just hate taxi drivers?” He had that smile on his face, the one I can only imagine earlier. Now I can actually see it.

I laugh at this. “No, I—”  _ wanted to have the chance to escape a free birthday party _ . But that didn’t sound reasonable. “I just really like walking.”

“Mind if I tag along?” He asks, just as he did earlier.

“Heading to Maz’s too?”

“Actually,” he replies, surprise registering on his face. “I am.”

I regret the next words I utter next. “Big date tonight?”

“Oh, yeah,” and he laughs awkwardly, “with my girlfriend.”

My heart sinks at that. He looked really cute in those aviator reading glasses, and don’t even get me started on his wavy black hair and kind smile. Not to mention he can lead a good conversation. He was undoubtedly my type. And he was unfortunately taken. I catch myself before I can sigh and chuckled nervously instead. 

_ Okay _ , I thought, a bit embarrassed. It wasn’t like I was hitting on him anyway but I figured it was a step in the right direction. Flirting, I mean. Or so Rose would say anyway.

“It shouldn’t be too hard,” I say now, hoping I didn’t look too disappointed. “She’s already in love with you. I can tell.”

There was a glint in his eyes, like he found comfort in this. “Right,” and he shifts his focus on his feet for a brief second. “What about you? Do  _ you _ have a big date tonight?”

“Birthday,” I reply easily. “I’m having a little get together.”

“Oh.” He smiles so big I swear the city just got a whole lot brighter. “Happy birthday.”

We start walking, side by side, under the yellow glow of streetlights. We didn’t talk for a moment, either content in silence or comforted by it. Each time we pass by a lamppost, my black skirt sparkles, distracting me with its reflective glitter on the pavement. This was something I always wanted for my birthday; a quiet walk amidst the busy city. That was it.

It sounds boring, but it’s very peaceful to me. Somehow, it makes me feel like I’m back at home running an errand, or something completely mundane, instead of living a thousand miles away. But I can’t go back there now. 

Before I knew it, we’re in front of Maz’s. The sound of alternative rock shook the windows and the orange neon lights made shadows of everyone inside. I sigh this time, unable to hide my disappointment. There he’ll go off to meet his special someone. 

“Are you going in?” He asks me. 

I shook my head. “I think I’ll need a minute,” and began pacing. “Do you think I can still catch a cab before anyone can spot me?”

“Making a break for it?” He laughs.

I shrug sheepishly.

“Is it a surprise party you found out by accident?”

“Not at all,” I say quickly. “It’s a company thing.”

Something in him clicks and he smiles. “Aren’t you lucky? It’s free food.”

“Good point,” and I laugh at how ridiculous it is that the only thing that can make me go through something as horrifying as this is something so simple like food—my one weakness. 

Before I could fully decide on it, I heard Kaydel call out my name and I groan inwardly.

The stranger perks up, grinning wider as if he wanted to tease me. “Too late now,” he mouths at me and stands quietly by my side.

She reaches me with a big smile plastered across her face, and notices the man next to me. “Oh,” and Kaydel, if anything, looks absolutely flustered. “You must be Rey’s boyfriend?”

I was about to protest when he extends his hand to her expectantly and grins as if this was the best news he’s ever had in his entire life.

“I’m Ren,” he said. “Kylo Ren.”


	3. Adore You - Harry Styles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So it wasn't a coincidence after all. Nothing is. There's no such thing as fate, just a good friend with an elaborate plan and good-looking conman to do the job. 
> 
> Might as well have a good time. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> # Just let me adore you//Like it's the only thing I'll ever do

I miss their entire conversation.

In fact, I think I had two aneurysms and passed out while standing up until Kaydel went inside. The ground rose up to meet me but the man—he— _Ren—_

His arms held me in place and all I could do was look up at him.

“What happened?” I demanded.

“I just met your friend,” he answered nonchalantly.

I let a sound that was hardly human. “No,” I said. “I mean—” _what did I mean?_ “You’re the one?” I asked.

He broke out into an amused grin and very flirtatiously replied, “I sure like to hope so.”

“No, no.” I start to bat him away, moving far from him. “I mean, you’re Ren. You’re Ren like _Nights with Ren_. Aren’t you?”

“Actually,” he begins. “I’m _a_ Ren but I do prefer it over—”

I don’t let him finish. “Hold on.”

“What?” He asks me patiently.

“Wall all of this planned?” My blood was starting to boil. _Was all of this a ruse?_ Our meeting could’ve been planned. I wouldn’t put it past Rose. After all, she hadn’t even commented about my meeting with this stranger earlier. That was suspicious, wasn’t it? 

“Which part?”

“Did you—” I let out a breath, trying to calm myself. “I don’t get—were you waiting for me, just now? Did you intentionally stand by that shop down the block?”

“Not really,” he admits. Ren removes his glasses and looks at me carefully. “I was actually surprised to see that you’re my—”

But I wasn’t really listening. The scenarios kept playing over and over in my head. I felt like a complete idiot.

I groan, much more aggressively this time. “I cannot believe I fell for this! Rose could’ve at least warned me!”

Ren ignores my tantrums. “Oh. Is she the one who booked this?” He asks. “She was calling me earlier. I should—”

But I ignored him too, going off on a ranting spree. “And she didn’t even say! I mean, it would’ve been nice to know that the only guy I’ve actually had the guts to flirt with—”

“Wait, really?”

“—is a total setup!” I was greeted with silence and Ren grinning even wider in amusement. I whine like a petulant child, covering my face with both hands in total embarrassment. “Shut up.”

He humors me for a while. When I peeked behind my fingers, I see him tightly sucking his lips in, sealed shut. Ren sees me and raises his hands in mock surrender. I sigh.

“I’m so…” I start to say but I couldn’t find the words to actually finish it. 

Then I feel him take a tentative step towards me. “Hey.”

I glance up at him, feeling my cheeks redden under his intense and understanding gaze.

“I’m not supposed to meet you till eight,” he tells me, very matter-of-factly. Ren takes a look at his watch. “We actually have two more minutes of this before officially becoming your boyfriend. Do you need me to brief you with details? I can answer any questions you might have. Speaking from experience, it’ll work best if our stories are well-coordinated.”

I stare at him for a moment, figuring out if this was some ploy to make me calm down. But then again it worked. He seemed rather serious about this, a complete professional. 

_Professional conman, you mean._

Let’s be honest. Pretending to be someone’s boyfriend, acting all flirtatious and cute—that’s the oldest trick in the book, isn’t it? He’s a conman. He takes people’s money in exchange for something fake.

 _And yet he acted so ethical just now,_ I thought. _Somehow that’s worse._

I realized then that this man was good at putting on a mask. One minute he’s grinning at me like a kid and now he’s looking after me like a complete adult.

 _He_ is _a complete adult_ , I tell myself. Whatever ‘complete’ actually means in my vocabulary. I should really stop talking to myself so much. If I’m going to survive tonight, I’ll need a clear head. And I can’t get distracted.

Also, this should be the last time I fall for this trick. Whatever trick it is he’s pulling on me right now—looking at me with those deep dark eyes like I’m the only person in the world. Ha!  
This is just for work. For him, this is for money. For me, this is to have ‘something to bond with’ in the office and nothing else. This wouldn’t be my first experience with a guy. Not if I can help it, anyway. 

Ren holds out his hand towards me like he’s asking me to dance.

“Once you take this,” he says. “You’re mine.”

“For the night,” I corrected.

“For the night,” he agrees, smiling again. 

I put a finger up before I even consider taking his hand. “No inappropriate touching.”

“Never,” and I can tell he meant it. “I prefer it when they actually want me—not the other way around.”

So I shook his hand once but he held on. 

“You have to get used to _some_ touching though,” he points out.

“That’s…” But I forgot what it was I needed to say, consumed by the feeling of another person’s hand gripping mine. “Do you know how old I am tonight?” I asked instead, reminding myself not to get distracted.

“Twenty-one,” he replies quickly like he was answering a math problem. “You can drink legally now.”

“I grew up in England, mate,” I say. “I’ve been drinking legally for a year before I had to leave.”

“Right,” Ren noted, chuckling. He started to swing our entwined hands back and forth while we stood on the sidewalk. “Keep quizzing me, come on.”

“Okay. What’s my job?”

“Rose mentioned you were…uh, an executive assistant? Did I get that right?”

“Yes.” I nodded. “Which company?”

He pauses then he looks down at me shyly. “They never mentioned it.”

“We work at O’s,” I tell him. “We’re an advertising agency.”

Ren stops swinging. “Oh,” he uttered and though he didn’t sound disappointed, it was as if this little fact was supposed to mean something. I tried to overanalyze it, wondering if we have a bad rep in the advertising industry, but then he just says, “Yeah, I heard of it.”

I nodded at that, quiet, and focused at the task at hand. Literally.

“Listen.” He sighs. “We’re not obligated to lie. Except for that one little part—”

“You being my boyfriend,” I fill in. “But that’s the important part, you know.”

“Yep, well,” he pops the ‘p’ again, making me smile a bit. “We’re just going to make some of the pieces fit together. A little story here and there, some anecdotes won’t hurt. I can work that out very quickly. Think of it like improv. You can lead and I’ll just follow. There’s nothing we have to change about how other people see and know us.”

“That’s part of the problem,” I say. 

But he was quick to understand. “You’re a private person.”

I relent. “Yes.”

“That’s good,” he tells me. “It makes the job easier. And we don’t have to disclose any information to anyone. This is your night. I’m only here to compliment you.”

 _He’s right_ , I thought. This is a job I just have to do tonight, a part I have to play. All I need to do is enjoy the ride…right?

Finally, I let myself smile up at him, feeling more secure about this _transaction_. “You’re really good at your job, aren’t you?”

“Wouldn’t have lasted this long,” he mutters, bashful.

Ren starts to urge me to go inside but then I remember something else. I pull him towards me, stalling.

“Nervous?” He asks.

 _Yes_ , I wanted to say but I shook my head. “Can we add just one more lie to the mix though?” 

Ren shrugs. “Anything,” he says.

“Can we not meet at iHop?”

He chuckles at this. “Is a forest more suitable to your taste?” He kiddingly responds.

I know it was meant to tease me but I can actually work with that. And I like it more than iHop—anything than iHop.

“I love hiking,” I say. “It’s something a lot of people know about me. And it’s not too impossible to meet someone while hiking, right?”

Ren scratches the back of his head, considering this. “Same hiking group,” he murmurs, like he’s thinking aloud, conjuring up a story. “I can be the guide or something.”

“Oh! And just a couple of weeks ago, I came in so sore—you know, hiking—and I think they’ll remember that,” I said. But as I looked at him, I began to speculate. His build couldn’t be questioned but I’d rather make sure.

“Have you ever hiked before?” I demanded, curious.

Surprisingly, he nods. “When I take pictures,” he replies, distracted, working out the details in his head. 

As soon as he said it, I noticed a small brown leather bag slung over his shoulder. 

“Do you do that as a sideline for jobs like these?” I ask, interested. “Like a job within a job or something…?”

“Oh.” He looked genuinely mortified. “I hoped you wouldn’t mind. I don’t usually bring my camera to gigs but I figured this one would be good.”

“Why is that?” I asked, suddenly on my guard.

“You’re my last one,” Ren says, looking at me with a hint of sadness in his dark eyes. “I’m retiring from this after tonight.”

“You’re quitting?” I asked. “From being a photographer or…?”

“Both, actually,” he replies, gripping the strap unconsciously. “Remember earlier, when I said I’m getting into a new field?”

“The leading thing,” I recall immediately. 

“Yep, that’s the one.” Ren didn’t try to disguise his sadness this time and simply stared down at his sneakers. 

_Funny, I have the same one._

“So much for being one of the lucky ones, eh?” Then he shifts completely, trying to smile it out. “But at least you’re my last client—ever.”

His sudden change in mood could’ve given me a whiplash but it’s a good thing I can keep up. “If I knew more about this business, I think that’s meant to flatter me,” I say.

Ren smiles wider, keeping his eyes downcast.

“Well,” he says, raising his head up. “How about we make this a night to remember then? For you, my last client, and for me, my last night as one of the lucky ones,” he proposes. 

I didn’t hesitate because honestly, it didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

“Deal,” I said, holding on to him as he leads me inside.

“You have to let me know whenever you feel uncomfortable. That’s a rule,” he murmurs in my ear as we make our way through the crowded room.

I nodded.

“Oh and I have a drink limit.”

I couldn’t help but give him a funny look. “You do know this is a party, right?” I said. “It’s not like people in my office are known to pressure you to drink—oh wait!” I feign surprise. “They are!”

“That should be interesting.”

“Anything else…?”

Ren pulls me back for a bit, stranded in between bodies trying to get to the bar, or the restroom, or the dining area. “You can kiss me any time,” and I can tell he was trying to say this with a straight face. “But nowhere below the belt is allowed.”

I snorted. “There goes my plan then!”

He stifles a laugh and goes on. “And the first rule applies to you too so no inappropriate touching.” He pauses. “I mean it.”

I could feel the heat spreading to my neck. His grip in mine had become more prominent in the last thirty seconds. “It should be a problem.”

“What?”

“I said it _shouldn’t_ be a problem!” I yell out amidst the horrifying music of my disturbed hormones. “Is there anything else?”

“That’s it!” Ren beams at me like a little kid, giddy and full of excitement. “Ready?”

  
  


The party was already at full swing when we reached the event hall (maybe ‘event hall’ is too generous since it’s just this little nook that was more spacious and private)—which was confusing because it was only a few minutes after eight. 

And I’m never late.

Then again, there is the issue that people aren’t really here for me. It _is_ a company party. It doesn’t necessarily mean they’d have to wait for me. Still, it proved Rose’s point even more. If I’m planning on staying in this company (and I am), I have to improve my relationship with these people. 

“This is nice,” Ren says.

“Yeah,” I agree, eyeing the gold and silver streamers hanging behind the huge banner that says _Welcome to the Adult World_ as if I had been an infant this entire time. A few tables were set as well as an elevated platform with a microphone stand. 

Ren points at a table lined with well-wrapped parcels. 

You’d think I was the boss. 

“There she is!” Our Chief Operating Officer, Ms. Holdo, greets me with a warm hug and a kind smile that reached her eyes. Her purple hair is still up in a tight bun but the rest of her attire was selected to solely give the impression that she was up for a party.

“Happy birthday, Rey,” she says as she pulls away, eyeing the man beside me. “Oh. You’re here.”

 _This is it,_ I thought. It was my first opportunity to try out this boyfriend thing. So I summoned all of my confidence and flashed Ms. Holdo a huge smile. 

“This is my boyfriend, Ren. Ren, this is our COO, Ms. Holdo.”

“Oh,” she says again, surprised. “Just…Amilyn, please— _Ren_ , was it?”

“That’s me,” he replies, a bit awkwardly, as he reaches to shake her hand. “I’m just here for Rey, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” she reassures him. “You’re a wonderful addition to our guest list this evening.”

Ms. Holdo smiles at me again before turning away to announce—well, _me_. I noticed then how we all dressed a bit fancily tonight. Ms. Holdo puts an arm around me, ushering me further into the nook, while I hold onto Ren, dragging him along.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, REY!” The crowd greeted in unison and I wave at them like the oddball that I am. They ignored it easily as the music started streaming in, a much different noise from the bass rocking the walls in the main hall. 

People started dancing, some better than others, and we simply mingled. Throughout the good half of an hour, I noted how much of a magnet Ren is to interaction. Not only did people willingly approach me, they all seemed very excited to get me in their little games. I had to leave Ren at least twice in Kaydel’s company while she mooned over him. That’s when I discovered that I might just be the jealous type. 

Ren seemed at ease with Ms. Holdo, even snapping away with his vintage-looking camera as she and Kaydel posed in front of him. He had a laugh that can stand out from the gurgle of hit songs from the early 2000s, never failing to make me glance over to check if he was okay. More than twice, I catch him doing the same to me. 

“Is that him?” Jannah just arrived but she was deadest on Ren already. 

I see Kaydel waving her over. 

“Rey, introduce us,” Jannah says to me, dragging me away from the small crowd I’ve formed myself.

I roll my eyes mockingly but reach out for him anyway. He looked perfectly content just being a fly on the wall, even just for a little while, but I could see he had been more than ready to play the part of a doting boyfriend. 

“Ren, this is Jannah,” I say. “Jan, this is Ren.”

Jannah was about to shake his hand when out of nowhere, Rose appears, bringing two paper bags filled with shiny material and balloons and an announcement no one could ignore. 

“He’s Rey’s boyfriend!” She yells, making everyone turn their attention to us that even the DJ stops playing the music for a full minute. 

Ren holds my hand, making soothing circles on my skin, while my pulse hikes up. “We can do this,” he whispers in my ear. 

But this only made my heart beat faster.

He raises his other hand, carefully securing the camera strap on his shoulder, and makes a little wave at our audience. “Hello,” he says.

I’ve never been to a concert or a meet-and-greet sort of situation but I imagine it’s much like this one. They began to crowd over him, very much intrigued to make his acquaintance. The only thing missing is the screaming fans.

“He’s handsome,” Jannah says to me like I should be proud. “Looks like quite the charmer,” she adds.

“Very tall too,” Ms. D’acy from Sales notes too, giving a side glance at her wife. “What do you think?”

“Good form,” she agrees.

“I didn’t know Rey has such great taste,” adds another.

“How long have you been dating?” One asks.

“Don’t you have a picture of him on your desk?”

“Have they been dating long?”

“Have you met his parents yet?”

“Your kids—”

I break away from the crowd and forces out a loud, ridiculous (and a bit nervous) laugh. “Way to overwhelm the man,” _or me_ , I thought to say. “He’s not part of the menu, you know. You keep eating him up!” I laugh again, more awkwardly this time. “Have—have any of you guys seen Ms. O? Is she coming?” 

“She’s going to be the late,” Dameron replies, looking sternly as he stood apart from the group. I guess he just came in too. 

I didn’t think he’d come. 

“Mr. Dameron,” I say and I try not to let it show but I think Ren had the slightest idea of my immediate discomfort. He drops my hand and extends it to him.

“I’m Ren.”

“Poe Dameron,” he says, clipped like a robot. “Have we met somewhere before? You seem familiar.”

I wait for Ren to reply, trying not to panic. But he simply shrugged and flashed him a charming smile. Despite the short— _really_ short—amount of time I’ve known him, I had the vaguest sense that he was lying. For some reason, I can just feel it. But I didn’t bother to ask him about that now. We had a job to do. 

Ren turns to me. “Mind if I take a photo with you and the group? Before everyone’s too wasted to stand.”

They laughed at that and eagerly complied. 

It was a pretty good idea too with everyone huddled in already. So that left me with no choice; trapped in the middle and squeezed tight by a dozen people cramming in for a photo.

“Alright, say REY!” Ren was grinning from ear to ear, his eye on the viewfinder.

Surprisingly, they all obeyed. 

“REY!” Finn enters the scene, sliding in the shot last minute, and manages to be the loudest of them all. I laugh just as the flash hits.

“Perfect,” Ren says, looking at me. 

“Good thing I made it just in time, yeah?” Finn says to me as he pulls me in for a hug. “Is that him?” He whispers to me and I nod. “Man, I pick them good.”

“Oh please!” I punch his shoulder as I break away. “Where have you been?” 

“Rose dropped her phone in the party shop,” he explains. “I had to go back and get it.”

“Is it time for grub yet?" Jannah asks aloud.

Rose yells at the top of her lungs again. “We have a program! Where’s my emcee?”

 _Is she drunk?_ I began to wonder, examining her as she jumped on the platform, pulling Kaydel over. I decided to ask Finn but then he rushed past me to speak with Dameron.

“Curious,” I muttered just as Ren hooks his arm around my waist, settling beside me again. “You’re doing alright?”

He nods but his furrowed brows say otherwise.

“Did anyone ask you weird questions?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary,” he reassures me. “By the way, what do you think our kids’ names will be?”

“That’s easy.” I spill it out like I’ve been waiting to be asked this question my entire life. “If it’s a girl, it’s Envy.”

“Envy like Envy Adams from Scott Pilgrim…?”

I nodded. “And if it’s a boy—”

“Ryan.”

“But with an _‘I,’_ ” I throw in quickly. 

Ren smiles at that and says very casually, “Okay, deal.”

I try not to let that get to me but I can feel myself grinning already. 

“Let me call to the stage our emcee, Mr. Cee Threepio!” Rose whoops and nearly falls off the makeshift stage but luckily, Finn catches her and brings her down safely.

I wince at the scene. Not only will she have a massive hangover but she’ll throw a fit once she finds out how she’s acted tonight. I wonder what drove her to get this pissed before the party’s even begun. 

I didn’t have to ponder for long as our Chief Accounting Officer, Mr. Cee, comes in from the side door and takes the stage. He’s the friendliest one among the bosses (or so I’ve noticed) yet the least appreciated ( _or so I’ve noticed_ ). Mr. Cee is similar to that of a funny posh uncle—if I ever had one—and speaking is his forte.

“Hello, hello!” He says into the microphone. “I apologize for being late. I just hopped off a cab because my driver is less than willing to take me places now-a-days.” He earns a couple of laughs here and there. “Now, as you all know, we’re here to celebrate Rey’s birthday and if I’m not mistaken, she’s always on time so she should be here—” Mr. Cee scans the crowd and finds me instantly. “Ah! There she is!” Then for a moment, his eyes flicker towards Ren and stops. 

I won’t be surprised at all if Mr. Cee finds him attractive too. Everyone in the office seems to like him well enough. I feel my chest swell with pride and thanked god because he gave me Rose and Finn. They really made a great choice. Hell, I couldn’t have picked someone better.

“Come sit with me,” Ms. Holdo says as she pulls me to the table closest to the stage. 

Ren and I sat together while Ms. Holdo dropped down to a seat next to me.

“First up is a special duet by our executive manager, Mr. Poe Dameron, and our best junior executive, Finn Dune, dedicated to our birthday girl while appetizers are being served.” As if on cue, servers with large trays begin to pile in, handing out bowls of delicious-looking finger foods. “Let’s give a big shout out to none other than Ms. Maz Kanata for serving us—”

I turn and see a little woman with curly auburn hair at the back, waving at my table. Ren raises his hand to her, smiling wide.

“You know Maz?” I ask.

“I come here a lot,” he explains. 

I pay attention back on stage and see Poe setting up his guitar and amp while Finn dragged in his old beat box. He used to keep that in Rose’s flat but he brought it home when I moved in. Rose said that’s how she knew we were going to be best friends. She hated that beat box so much. 

Poe settled down on a wooden stool, looking somber as usual, while Finn sat next to him. Mr. Cee looks in our general direction, waving at Ms. Holdo. Then he looks at Ren again and something like glee registers on his face.

He’s always so happy to see new people.

He comes towards us, rather excitedly. However, before he can reach our table, Ren glances at me and stands up. I wasn’t sure what he was doing at first, heading straight for Mr. Cee, until I see him snatch the microphone away from him. Ren goes up on stage, his face red from absolute mortification, and it feels as if he was under a spotlight. I could see no one else in that moment except for him and his bashful grin, dragging his hand through his luscious black hair quite nervously. When he spoke, his voice surprisingly didn’t shake. 

“Hello,” he says, trying to make himself seem small. “I know we all met earlier. I’m Ren—Rey’s boyfriend.”

I blush at the mere sound of those words. Then he looks at me, a smile tugging at his lips, and continues. 

“This isn’t—I’m not really a good singer,” and he lets out a panicky chuckle. “But I wanted to hijack this performance for a bit, if you don’t mind.”

He ducks for a bit and speaks with Poe and Finn animatedly, desperately trying to coordinate with them. Poe had a permanent scowl on his face all throughout, complete with a menacing glare, his distaste for this sudden change of plans evident on his face. Finn simply nodded, cooperative. Ren stands upright again and smiles, flashing his teeth at this unsuspecting crowd, all awkward and cute.

“This is a Kerrigan-Lowdermilk song. If you’re familiar, that’s fantastic. If not—” he takes a deep breath, pausing for effect and making us laugh, “—well, that’s on me.” 

Poe starts to strum his guitar.

 _“’Let me catch my breath,’”_ Ren starts to say. _“’This is really hard. If I start to look like I’m sweating, well—that’s ‘cause I am.’”_

When the rest of the song flowed out, there was just this feeling of infinite bliss. I can’t describe it any other way than that. It was as if my feet were off the ground and I had this urge to just _run away with_ _him_. Whether or not this part was planned ahead of schedule, I couldn’t care less. I didn’t need to act like he was sweeping me off my feet. He already was

“Oh, you’re in big trouble,” Ms. Holdo suddenly says to me, smiling knowingly, before turning her attention back to Ren. 

I sigh, defeated. “I’m afraid you’re right.”


	4. Begging - Dua Lipa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So. Not only is the guy good-looking, an excellent listener, and a smooth talker. He also had to be a great singer with a charming smile and strong arms. 
> 
> How will Rey ever succeed in keeping him to herself--even just for a night?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> # Say you're gonna hold my head up//Say you're gonna break my fall

I didn’t plan for any of this to happen.

I don’t usually plan for anything to be honest, but this is a big one. This is too much. And it all started because I met her. 

Who would’ve thought I’d sing in front of _not_ inanimate objects? Not me. Armi would have a field day if he knew. I guess it’s a good thing that I’ve never really been one who easily folds in a huge crowd. Well, it’s not that huge anyway. How many are here—fifty people? It’s more than a handful, but I’ve seen worse. 

Rey seemed happy with it though. She was looking at me funny when I sat beside her again. I couldn’t help but be more self-conscious. Something in her eyes makes me feel so _seen_. I’m not usually shy. If someone only knew how my childhood was, they’d know that being shy is as good as being eaten alive by lions. But there’s something about Rey—and everything that I did tonight—that gained me the inability to look anywhere past her eyebrows. I only relaxed a bit when I caught her looking at me under those long lashes of hers with a small smile playing on her lips. 

“Is it that bad?” I ask quietly.

Then I felt her lean in and kiss my cheek. “Quite the opposite,” she reassured me.

So I simply sat next to her, proud of myself, while I trifled with my camera and tried to stay in my seat this time. No more hijacking. 

“Hey, Rey,” I said, making her look directly at me.

Then I took her picture, catching her off guard. 

She shakes her head at me but a blush started to creep into her cheeks. I smile at that.

After a rather obligatory applause for Finn and Poe’s performance, the girl from earlier—Kaydel—takes the microphone in Cee’s absence. I search for him in the crowd but he’s nowhere to be found. 

“He must’ve had a business call,” Rey says and I see she’s looking for him too. “Mr. Cee never rests. I don’t think he’s even human.”

“He doesn’t _look_ human,” I remarked, making her laugh slightly. “Have you seen how slim he is? It’s like he’s perfectly measured, down to the brim.”

Rey only laughs and I put my arms around her, watching as Kaydel tries to get hold of the room.

“Shall we play a game?” She asks us, elated. Her voice was loud enough without the microphone’s help that it bounces off the walls. “Okay, the game has to be done in pairs so look for a partner and stand in the middle.”

We all begrudgingly moved away from our tables and stood in the middle of the room in twos. Rose started to hand out newspaper sheets, making us sprawl it across the floor.

“This is going to be fun,” I tell her with a mischievous grin. 

“So basically,” Kaydel goes on. “You fold the newspaper each level, making it smaller, so you have to be creative with your partner to make sure that your feet do _not_ touch the space outside the paper. Got it?”

“She looks like a middle school teacher, doesn’t she?” I mutter to Rey. 

She only giggles in response, but I know she’s thought about this too.

Kaydel cued the DJ to play some music and I realized too late that what she explained earlier was a Freeze Dance. My heart began to race like a jackrabbit and I couldn’t contain the sweat forming rapidly on my palms. I was very much self-conscious of my dancing. And to think I’d have to do this in front of a really good looking girl? 

I trembled.

“You okay?” She asks me. “Are you cold or something?”

I’m a photographer, yes, and I’ve had gigs where I take photos of some of the most gorgeous women that ever walked the earth. That was a given. But, no offense to them, they just don’t have the same radiance Rey emits. She’s like the sun; her beauty shines with her light. And her appeal was much more universal, especially with that big bright smile.

I’ve never been this involved with a client before.

“At least the music selection’s good,” she mutters, almost to herself. 

A mix of all the hits from the 80’s was playing. 

“Rose must’ve chosen it. She knew how much I like dancing to them.” And she looked up at me, grinning. 

I can tell that this was a tactic of hers, to keep someone comfortable. Just keep talking. 

“I’m not a very good dancer though.” 

But in no time, she’s moving her hips and feeling the beat under the soles of our feet. Not a very good dancer, my ass. She was breathtaking.

I had no choice and started swaying with her, following her steps. I try to do it as not-repulsing as I can manage but I know I just look like a giant goofball. 

_Whatever,_ I thought. As long as she’s having fun (and she seems to be). We were too giggly at each other, I thought, because then the music stopped and we both stepped onto the sheet, breathless. She kept that grin on her face, excited, looking around as the others did the same, trying to catch anyone who lost in the first round.

“Good!” Kaydel announces. “Everyone’s safe! Fold your newspapers!”

We fold it in half. The music starts again. We dance and repeat. But we barely cared about the game. We simply started having fun just dancing to each other—no matter how ridiculous I know I probably looked. 

Halfway through the third song, Rey starts to lose her balance, suddenly deep in thought, and I catch her before she hurts herself.

“You alright…?”

“Don’t you just wish we were out clubbing or something?” She yells over the loud music that was _a-ha!_ “I’ve never been to a club!”

“Neither have I,” I lie. “I can sneak you out of here later, if you want.”

 _Take on Me_ stops and she barely misses my foot. I pull her in quickly when she started to back away, holding onto her waist.

Rey hooked her fingers to my belt loops and blushed.

“Does this count as inappropriate touching?” She asks me.

My mouth turns up in a half-smile, trying not to let on how cute she sounded right now. “So long as you don’t go below the belt, we’re good,” I replied, wishing that we weren’t bound by any contract so she can touch me wherever and however she wants.

Rey turns away, hiding her face. I stayed there, held her as close as I possibly could, and tried to breathe normally. I started to inhale some of her perfume—or is it just soap? 

_No, it smells too good to be soap,_ I resolved.

Kaydel calls out another losing team and the music restarts, some of the older folks going back to their seats now. Two more rounds later, I tried holding her in a bridal carry—repeatedly. It was a big hit with her colleagues. But honestly, I wasn’t really sure if I kept doing it for their benefit or mine. The lines were getting a bit blurry.

The only pairs left were me and Rey, Rose and Finn, their friend Jannah (who I met earlier) and Art, and Poe with a girl named Tallie.

“This is so embarrassing,” she murmurs as Ms. Holdo cheers for our team.

“You’re doing great,” I tell her, nodding at Amilyn with what I hope was equivalent to a thumbs-up. 

From across the room, Rey’s friend—the godsend, Rose—exclaims in frustration. “Stop cheating!” She was pointedly looking at Finn, who she caught by surprise.

Her face was completely red. 

“She’s drunk,” I noted absentmindedly as Finn froze on the spot.

“Oh, no,” Rey mutters to herself, worried.

“What?”

She shakes her head. “Something’s wrong.”

Well, she wasn’t the only one to have realized that. Everyone was looking over at the pair. Kaydel watches them too, distracted by Rose’s sudden outrage, but she recovers quickly and gestures for Jannah to help out.

Rose opens her mouth and I could tell she was about to yell some more.

Kaydel beats her to the punch, prepared. “Alright, speed round!” She motions for the DJ in the back to play some music and he complies immediately. 

Jannah and Art quit as the music swallows anything said in a higher pitch. Rey didn’t dance and neither did, simply watching as Kaydel and Jannah try to contain the situation. 

She pulls away from me, ready to come over, when we see Rose push Jannah away. Words were exchanged, harsh words from the looks of it, and Rose was furious. She was a little woman but even I knew her temper could trigger the Ring of Fire. 

Just then the music stops. I grab Rey at the last minute just as Tallie squeals. Poe had dropped her rather ungracefully.

“Dammit!” But the woman didn’t sound pissed. In fact, she was laughing, making Poe smile a little. “I knew you were going to drop me.”

But Poe’s attention was no longer on her. Instead, he was looking at the commotion while he helped Tallie up. I turn my attention back to them just in time to watch Rose stomp off to the backdoor. 

Kaydel tries to command the room again, searching for something to focus on. When she sees me—holding Rey up in what I hoped to be a proper bridal carry—she nearly sighs in relief. 

“Our winners—” she announces in a less enthusiastic tone.

The crowd turns to us, eager to ignore the uncomfortable atmosphere of the lovers’ spat.

“Let’s give it up for Ren and Rey, everybody!” As soon as she said it, she drops the microphone and follows Rose outside. 

There was an odd mixture of applause and people talking in hushed tones.

“This is not good,” I hear Rey mutter under her breath.

“Go,” I tell her. “I’ll distract them.”

When she looked back at me, her expression had completely changed. She was an anxious friend, determined to make sure that Rose was okay. 

“Ren,” she whispers.

“What?” I accidentally look at her lips. They were so close to mine that if I lean—

“You have to put me down first.”

“Of course,” and immediately, I set her on her feet.

“Are you sure you can handle this?” She asks me. “We won’t be long. I mean, I hope.”

“I got this,” I reassured her despite not knowing what it is I’ll actually be doing with these people while she’s out. “Go.”

Rey sets off after them and I’m suddenly overly aware that I’m surrounded by confused people who I’m not well acquainted with, some of which are looking at me expectantly. 

Well, I guess it’s time to give that leading thing a try. 

“Is anyone up for a photo booth?” I ask, loud enough for all of them to turn to me at the same time. 

Surprisingly, Poe steps out of the crowd and comes towards me. “I’ll do you one better.”

He proposed a round of flip cups and the rules were simple. We have to drink at least ten cups half-filled with beer and flip the cups down the line. The fastest player wins. The prize was simply bragging rights, and judging by the smug look on Poe’s face, I knew I was going to enjoy this. 

“And what does the loser do?” I cared to ask, trying to think of something distracting enough for Poe to do so the girls could recompose themselves before coming back in. Or at least, that’s what I think Rey would like me to do.

Poe eyes me suspiciously. “Losers have to finish every cup on the table that still has beer.” The crowd ‘oohs’ at this while I simply shrug.

There was a reason I got fired from a job before and it wasn’t incompetence. (Yes, it was coming to work drunk and that took a bottle of vodka, not a couple of beers. I’ll be fine.)

“How did you and Johnson meet again?” Poe asks suddenly but tries to focus on lining up the cups, like he was deliberately feigning nonchalance. 

As agreed, I say, “Hiking.”

But then he makes a face. “Rey hikes?”

Thankfully, Tallie, who was standing nearby, shakes her head at him and helps me out (somewhat). “She hikes _all the time_ —” but then she pauses and ponders on that again. “Well, not so much lately. I haven’t seen her in the trails for weeks.”

Tallie turns to me as if she suddenly remembered I was there.

“When did you guys start dating?”

Poe looks at me too, waiting for an answer.

Rose told me to say three weeks, and I know that I should, but what if Rey hasn’t been hiking for a month? That could foil the story. 

So I decided to improvise, praying that this won’t bite us in the ass later. 

“Actually, we’ve known each other for a while.”

“Oh?” Tallie smiles at this and I realize I’ve piqued her interest more. “I love a good meet-cute. And Rey hasn’t really been that chatty with us so we have no idea you even existed.”

 _Neither did I,_ I thought and started wracking my brain for something to say.

“Well…I knew her from when we were younger.”

“Back when she was still in England?” She prodded.

“Yep,” and I breathed out as casually as I could. “We were…pen pals.”

“I thought you guys met while hiking,” Poe interjects, raising a brow.

“We did,” I say, a bit too quickly. “I was visiting—in Ireland. I have an uncle there.”

 _Ireland?_ I mocked myself inwardly. I mean, I have been visiting my uncle in Ireland but I need to hope that Rey’s actually been there. Given that she’s a private person, and trusting Tallie’s word that Rey hasn’t been a chatty person to begin with, I’ll just have to trus she hasn’t mentioned anything about her nonexistent worldly travels.

“You guys hiked in Ireland?” Tallie asks excitedly. And then, she pauses again. “Huh,” she mutters. “I always thought Rey was a first time hiker when she moved here.”

“Still clumsy…?” I asked suggestively, giving the impression I have known her for a long time. Tallie laughs and nods and it took everything in me not to breathe a huge sigh of relief. “So that’s where we met. Hiking, and then we decided to keep in touch.”

“That’s sweet,” Tallie says. “And to think that’s been some time ago and you’re still together—”

“Leave it to Johnson to never mention a boyfriend,” Poe murmurs disapprovingly.

But I just couldn’t keep my mouth shut. “Well—” and I know I don’t have to defend her or her choice of lifestyle because if she wants to keep things under wraps, she should be able to do that without judgment, right? 

“—we only reconnected a few weeks ago,” I said. “We didn’t really _officially_ date till then. And with her job—”

“Speaking of,” Poe pipes up. “What do _you_ do, Ren?”

 _Good,_ I thought. _This is familiar territory._

“I’m a photographer.”

“That’s great. Tallie needs a photographer for her friend’s wedding. Don’t you, Tallie?”

Tallie nods at this. “Are you any good? Do you have an Instagram account?”

I should panic, being put on the spot like this, but thank god for protocols. Part of our training is creating another identity for yourself. That means you also have to create social media accounts, emails and whatnot, to back you up. I pull out my phone and Tallie peeks at it with gusto. She sighs when she sees my wallpaper.

Rose sent me a picture of Rey sleeping this morning. I figured that would be useful.

“That’s so adorable,” she croons. “Poe, look!”

“Nope,” he deadpans. “I’m not into seeing my subordinates naked.”

Tallie chucks a handful of peanuts in his direction. “You’re gross.”

I open my Instagram account and show her photos I actually took from my travels, including one (of many) from Ireland. 

“Huh.” And I turn to see Poe looking too. “No picture of Johnson?”

“She doesn’t want me to post anything on social media yet,” I lie easily.

“That’s Rey for you,” Tallie adds. “Well, if you’re free on November 3, I’d love to hire you. I’ve been looking for a good photographer since June.”

“Sure thing,” I say without hesitation. And then I remember that I’d have to check this in with Rey first. “I’ll have to ask Rey first though. I promised her a trip and we haven’t really decided when that’s going to be.”

_Nice save._

Tallie simply shrugs, “Sure. Let me know next week if that works.”

“Are we playing or what?” Poe demanded, impatient now. 

And that was that. I relax a bit as Tallie begins to us down from three but just before we got to start, a cell phone rings. Poe picks it up and spends exactly five seconds on it, after which he makes an announcement.

“Leia’s coming in ten minutes!”

Guess I only have eight.

  
  


Kaydel was patting Rose’s back as she vandalized the wall with her vomit. 

“How is she?” I ask Jannah.

Rose waves her hand out to me, head still bent down. “I’m fine!” She growls, hurling amber-colored liquid with a passion. “Go back inside!”

“Uh-uh,” I say. “No, not till you tell me what was _that_ all about.”

“I’m—so—drunk—” Rose laughs forcibly, making it seem like this will be one of those stories you’ll laugh about later on. “I don’t even know what’s going on. Honestly.” 

“I should really choose less competitive games,” Kaydel notes seriously, distracted for a minute.

When Rose stood upright again, she looked me in the eye and gave me two thumbs up. “All good, loser, let’s go!”

She was still too loud but she was smiling, tight-lipped and red-eyed. Despite my inability to assess these situations—and I reckon the lighting overhead also has something to do with this—I was very sure in that moment that Rose just bawled her eyes out. 

She would never admit it, but I can see it. Jannah looked at me and we shared a look, one that said ‘this can wait.’ So we did. I don’t push for now, in fear it’ll break her, and I let her drag me back inside and pretend everything’s all right. It’s another addition to tonight’s performance, I guess.

Kaydel sprays perfume on Rose and pops a mint in her mouth, always prepared like a Mama Bear. Meanwhile, Jannah clings to my arm, a gesture I haven’t been familiar with till tonight. And to be honest, I found it comforting. We were all here for her, and we were all friends. I think that instead of Ren, as Rose had planned, she’s actually the one that we bonded over. Given that the bond is struck with vomit.

When we came back inside, people were crowding over something in the middle of the room. There were hoots and cheering. I hear Ren’s name repeatedly. It was louder and rowdier than it had been a few minutes before.

_What did he do?_

There were two groups with most of the women on the farther side. I try to stand on tiptoes to see but they’re blocking me too much, looking like hedges that protect some mystical treasure.

“What’s going on?” Even Kaydel seems confused.

We walk around, looking for an opening, and finally see the long table they’ve arranged. There were two lines of yellow plastic cups. Poe was on the side with mostly men cheering him on, flipping one after the other, and Ren was opposite him. Both were heavily entranced by this game they’ve concocted and hardly noticed our reentrance. 

I let myself be an audience then, watching him intently. He was going at it with those cups, his forehead scrunched up and his mouth a bit twisted as he drank continuously. He flips the cups faster than Poe, I notice, coming towards me very quickly. Ren must’ve seen me already because when he looked up, he was on me instantly and even dared to wink in my direction. As predicted, he finishes first. He was fluid in motion, drawing me in for a bear hug and lifting me off my feet again. 

“Told you I’ll get them distracted,” he murmurs in my ear.

“Good job,” I say, petting him like a child. “Are you drunk now?”

“Do you want to get out of here?”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” I laugh. Then I catch sight of Rose and hesitate at his request. “Can we stay longer?”

And then, I hear her, loud and clear—and very _cheery_. “HEY!”

Ren and I whip around to see her hugging a tall, lanky, ginger-haired man with the most bashful smile. I’ve never seen him before and I don’t think Rose has ever mentioned him. Not to me, at least. 

“They seem close,” I say. When I glanced at Ren, I see a mirror image of confusion as well. “What?”

Ren sighs. “That’s Armi.”

“You know him?”

“He’s my…assistant.” He seemed rather tired of this idea. “He’s a really nice guy, good at taking photos too. But he has a reputation with the ladies.”

My brows furrowed in response and I realize that my feet haven’t touched the ground yet till he put me down again.

“We work together.”

“Doing photos or…?”

“Both,” he replies. “He was _there_ first.”

Oh. And that was exactly what came out of my mouth, “Oh.”

“Yeah—” He nodded in resignation. “Oh.” Ren kept watching them warily. “I don’t know what he’s doing here though.”

“Rose looks like she knows him. Funny though, she's never mentioned him,” I point out. “I wonder how—” and the answer came to me like a small footnote in a page I'm currently reading. In a split second, I realized what could link Armi to Rose. 

“What?”

The letters in fine print flash before my eyes. 

**_NIGHTS WITH REN is exclusive to members of Love Provider only._ **

_He’s the guy that got us in._

“So that’s him,” I thought aloud. “That’s the guy.”

“What guy?”

I don't hear him enough, too deep in my own ramblings. “But…why? It still doesn’t make sense how _he_ knows her.”

Ren makes a face at me and I realize I’ve been talking aloud again. I should really learn how to keep things to myself.

“You have to loop me in here,” he says.

But I clam up immediately, thinking of the consequences my big mouth could get us in. Ren might be nice and sweet as hell but he’s still bound to a contract. He probably doesn’t know we don’t have a membership—and this, whatever _this_ is, could be _illegal_ —so I feel it’s better if I keep it under wraps for now. I make a mental note to ask Rose about this tomorrow and in detail. For now, I’m actually going to let myself off. Be content just enjoying the ride. I mean, if we’re going to get busted later on, I might as well have a few good memories of this…right?

Just then, Kaydel swoops in, looking at us with disapproval. I realize then that Ren hasn't put me down yet.

"Are you enjoying yourselves?" She asks, and though she was addressing both of us, she was only looking at him. "Come on, let's get back to the party."

I know that the whole purpose of getting someone to come with me was so I could feel less alone and mingle, be the life of the party I never am. But then I look at Ren and know that as soon as we dive back into the pit, I'll still have to be alone. Worse, I'll have to share my pretend-boyfriend with everyone else. As Kaydel rolls her eyes and disappears back into the forming crowd, I look at him carefully and decide to finally ask for something that I want.

“Do you still want to get out of here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was short because it was supposed to be part of the previous chapter, but I also wanted to do Ben's perspective a bit. I'm still finding my footing with this story and it's not as easy as I thought it would flow out, so please bear with me! I'm hoping the idea becomes more fluid when I translate it on the page~


	5. Magic – Gabrielle Aplin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Ren create a birthday list.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> # I know you can feel the magic, we don't need to talk about it.

I knew I would be skipping my own birthday party tonight but I didn’t know I’d do it with a complete stranger.

 _Okay, maybe Ren isn’t such a complete stranger anymore,_ I considered. Still, as we snuck out of the room and into the back alley, I suddenly remembered these fantasies I had when I was young.

Back in England, it was such a different scene. I lived in a small town, nearly in the middle of nowhere, and everyone knew everybody else. If you wanted to paint the town red, you better not get caught. But that was never a problem. 

_No one_ wanted to do anything remotely interesting in that part of the world. Our people did things on routine and played it safe their whole lives. But I wanted to be different. I’ve always wanted to break through that pattern.

My imagination would always take me here, in New York, the city that never sleeps. I guess it’s also the reason why I went with Finn to America despite the insane fact I didn’t know him at all. What I did know was there’s a place for me somewhere out of that little town and all I had to do was jump at the opportunity to get there. I was so scared I’ll keep playing it safe the way those people have and I didn’t want to be stuck there my whole life. I wanted to live out a crazy adventure, carpe diem and all that. That’s the dream I keep chasing after, or did. It’s the dream I ironically left behind the moment I actually got here because two years passed by but I feel like nothing’s changed.

I guess you can take the girl out of the town but you can’t take the town out of the girl—or something like that.

 _But that changes tonight_ , I thought. I hoped. With his hand holding mine, dashing out of that alley, I feel like I’m living out those movie scenes I’ve seen a hundred times before. Two people in New York, strangers who have never met till today, are going to scour the city all night for this little adventure. 

After a few blocks, we slow to a jog. Ren and I walk side by side now, his hand no longer clasped in mine, and I can feel myself panicking. 

Why did I leave? I had a room full of people back there to impress, to ‘bond with.’ I shouldn’t have abandoned that ordeal at the first chance I get—that’s why Rose got me this gift in the first place. 

The movie in my head faded to black and I knew what I would do next. I’d tell him thanks, nice to meet him. Then I’d go home. I would spend my birthday the way I always had: alone. Just as I turn to him, ready to let him go, he suddenly starts a conversation. 

“It’s nice of your office to throw you a party.”

It takes me by surprise at first, unable to form a coherent response. 

“Rey…? Are you okay?”

“I am,” I say then. “And it is, actually. The party was quite nice.”

For some reason, he smiles. “But it’s not your thing, right?”

“I like parties,” I reply hastily. “Just not my own,” I admit.

“I figured,” he somewhat agrees, earning him an inquisitive brow from me. “We wouldn’t be walking—well, _running_ —away from it if you did,” he explains.

I shrug at this, wondering why I did run from it. “I shouldn’t have,” I voiced out. “But I—” _felt suffocated_ , I wanted to say but I didn’t. “I think I like it best when I’m behind the scenes.”

Ren looks ahead but I can see he knows what I mean. I don’t know how but I just do.

“I feel the same way,” he says later on.

“You’re much more comfortable behind the camera, aren’t you?”

“I do,” he confesses. The sound of sincerity in his voice was unmistakable. “But I’ve also been in front of it so that’s how I know I don’t like it.” He gives me a teasing smirk and I roll my eyes, smiling.

“Being the center of attention will never be my thing,” I tell him, unabashedly defensive.

“There has to be something you like doing in public. Other than walking,” he points out.

I laugh. “I actually do walk a lot,” I realize out loud. 

“What else do you like?”

I didn’t seem to mind him asking me questions like I do with people in my office. I guess it’s the thought that I’ll never have to see him again that makes him an exception. Besides, Ren seemed genuinely interested. If you haven’t guessed, I haven’t had much experience with guys so being able to hold a conversation about the simple things is a huge plus for me. Unfortunately, my inexperience has a huge downside. _I_ don’t know how to hold a conversation. My thoughts have been jumbled up in knots for the last twenty seconds trying to answer his question.

“I like—” _movies, music, art—say something!_ “—New York.”

I groan at myself inwardly, feeling absolutely idiotic. 

_New York?_ I thought again. _Could I be any more basic?_

“That’s cheating,” he says with a laugh in his lips. “No one can’t help but like this city.”

“My grandfather would disagree,” I murmur, the words slipping out before I could stop myself. I watch his expression change from confusion to curiosity. 

“How can he hate New York?”

“Because I wanted to move here,” I reply. 

“Ah.” He nods in understanding, but notes that, “He doesn’t hate New York. He hates the idea of you _moving to_ New York.”

“That’s also true.”

“Okay, besides the obvious,” he continues. “What else? What makes Rey Johnson smile? What makes you uniquely you, like it genuinely bugs you when people don’t get it right?”

Finally, a real answer pops out. “Harry Potter!”

But then Ren shakes his head at me with a mocking expression. “I said besides the obvious, Rey.”

I was about to get offended, thinking he meant it’s because I was English, but then he carried on and said;

“No one can hate Harry Potter. Be unaware of it, sure. But hate it?” He scoffs for full effect and mutters, “Blasphemy.”

I bite down at my lip, trying not to smile. Although it is true that there’s a likelier chance to meet someone who does like Harry Potter, I just didn’t really think he’d take it as seriously as I would. I really need to get out more because it’s either my standards are too low, or I’ve just truly found someone I can fall over heels for.

“Which house are you in?” I decide to ask.

Without pause, Ren replies, “Ravenclaw. And you?”

I hide my smile and keep walking, trying to get ahead of his long strides. “Not telling.”

“You’re in Hufflepuff, aren’t you?” I hear him say from behind me.

“Not telling!”

Ren laughs. “You are _so_ Hufflepuff.”

We cross the street and pass by a theater. _Sabrina_ —the 1954 version, not the 1995—was playing. The poster they put up was the yellow one, with Hepburn in that faded yellow gown in the middle of Humphrey Bogart and William Holden. Ren stares at it too.

“I have one of these posters back at home,” I remark. “The art is different. Mine is like the painted ones, you know? The three of them are in separate boxes with their names in big, bold print, and her dress there is a light shade of pink.”

“Do you want to watch? I think we can still catch it.”

I shake my head. “But I like old films. Actually, I like most films, but I prefer the ones that have been made before I was born. I don’t know why.”

“That is old,” he teases.

I start walking forward again. “I like the feel of it, you know? To imagine that time forever encapsulated in stories that are hardly relevant today but it’s all still just the same—am I making any sense?”

He smiles at me—a genuine smile—either because he gets it or because he doesn’t want to trigger a lunatic such as myself. And yet, I’m not embarrassed. There’s something about him that was so easy, like I can’t ramble on and not make sense at all and he’d still understand. Maybe I’m projecting. Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself. 

“What’s your favorite film?”

“It’s silly.” I try to walk ahead again but he catches on pretty quickly.

“Come on,” he urged. “Tell me, puff.” Ren lights up like a Christmas tree with that teasing grin and that playful look in his eyes.

“I’m not in Hufflepuff!” But I laugh anyway because it was partly true.

“Alright, alright,” he relents. “But one of these days you’re going to have to tell me a straight answer.”

I shrug but he gives me that look, the same look Rose pulled on me earlier. My heart started to melt and I could feel my cheeks heating up. A big man like him giving you sad puppy dog eyes? I didn’t even stand a chance.

“If you laugh, I swear to god—” I stop walking just to face him and he stops too, swaying a little from the abruptness. “Promise me you won’t laugh.”

Ren raises his hands in surrender then quickly puts down his left hand. “I promise.”

I narrowed my eyes at him and sighed. “It’s Chitty Chitty Bang Bang,” and then I walked away very quickly, leaving him there with the remaining dignity I have left. I remembered telling Finn and Rose about this—without any self-preservation, mind you—because I thought there was nothing embarrassing about it only to get taunted for five hours.

As soon as Ren was right beside me again, I tried not to look at him but I could see him smiling from the corner of my eye. 

“You said you wouldn’t laugh,” I reminded him. 

“I’m not.” He isn’t. “Dick Van Dyke, 1963, it’s a classic.”

I paused and looked at him, vaguely surprised—and impressed. Finn looked it up and just remarked how it’s a children’s movie. Mostly they teased me for the title. They haven’t actually watched it. At least I don’t think they have.

“The child catcher scared the shit out of me as a kid.”

But apparently Ren has.

“You’ve watched it.”

“My mom was a Van Dyke groupie,” he says by way of explanation.

I kept looking at him in awe and by the time I actually believed it, I took comfort in the idea that this was really going better than I expected. “Huh. Who would’ve thought?”

We continued walking, heading nowhere, and for a moment we were quiet while the city buzzed and beeped and electrified around us. The city that never sleeps, that much is true. We watch as the people around us go about their business, laughing and smiling as if just being here gets them on a high. It probably does.

Ren breaks the silence. “By the way,” he says. “Tallie asked me if I can be her friend’s wedding photographer. I said I would run it by you first because we might be going on a trip soon. But the thing is, this gig is on November and I don’t know if we’ll be…you know.”

“If we’ll be keeping up the pretense that we’re dating,” I conclude. 

Ren nods. 

I think about it for a moment. “That’s barely a month from now. Who knows where we’ll be then?” I say. “It’s not like I’ll be attending that wedding anyway.”

“So you don’t mind?”

“Go for it.” I smile. “Besides, you can always say we broke up.”

“Oh, sure,” and he smiles at me too but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Thanks.”

The silence overcomes us again. In fear of appearing dull—or worse, _rude_ —I decide to ask him some questions this time.

“What made you go into photography?” But as soon as I asked it, I regretted asking it. 

How many times did a girl ask him this exact same thing?

If it had been many times, Ren didn’t seem to mind. He answered me with ease and in detail. “I always liked taking photos ever since I was a kid. There’s this place in Ireland we used to go to every summer to visit my uncle. And the view there…it just always takes my breath away.”

“So you do landscapes?”

“When I started, yeah,” and he unconsciously thumbs the strap of his camera, smiling at the street up ahead and nothing else.

“And now…?” I prompted.

“Mostly people,” he replies.

“Models?”

Ren laughs, finding this amusing. “Sometimes,” he says. “But I like gigs where I get to be a part of something. Capture a moment, a _real_ moment, you know?”

Surprisingly, I do.

“I had this notion as a kid that I’d be a curator of memories.” He seemed embarrassed (as I did all night) saying it aloud. But like what he’s been doing with me, I merely smiled.

I honestly found the thought somewhat special. So I spoke my mind to ease his. “I like that,” I tell him in earnest. “A curator of memories sounds very fitting.”

“Good.” He breathes out in relief. “I thought it was a bit pretentious.”

“It’s not,” I reassured him. “It’s…sincere.”

“Is it good enough to be the name of my exhibit?”

“You’ll have an exhibit?” I hated how excited I sounded at that particular moment. I really need to get a hold of myself.

“Two weeks from now.” He pulls me towards him a little as an incoming biker passes by us. “It’s my final hurrah before—”

“Your leadership thing,” I guessed.

And I guessed correctly because he glanced at his shoes before nodding.

Ren turns to me abruptly with troubled eyes and starts to walk backwards. “How do you think I should do it? “

“Leading?” I asked, distracted. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“I know,” and he sighs heavily.

“No, I mean, walking like that.”

“Oh.” He chuckles to himself and falls in step with me again. “How does your boss do it?”

“Oh.” 

I tried to think about Ms. O and the way she handled things. But no one can replicate that, this I knew. Being different is the key, she always used to say so that’s exactly what I tell Ren now. 

“My boss isn’t really set in one strategy. She likes to experiment, mix things up, but she always tries to put the people first. She says that it’s who you trust and their differences that make something special. And not to sound like one of those motivational quotes but in my experience, the first step is nearly always the hardest. What matters is that you make it.”

That didn’t seem to comfort him at all. I began to suspect that despite my disclaimer of not sounding like an inspirational poster, I didn’t succeed. So I decided to say what I just believed to be actually true, something simple and direct. 

“You’ll be fine, Ren.”

Finally, he takes that in and smirks at me. 

“You really are a Hufflepuff, aren’t you? Patient, loyal, and hardworking—”

“Ha-ha,” and just like that, the gray cloud above him seemed to disappear.

Mine, however, was just forming. At the mention of his worries, I was acutely aware of my own. I can feel myself beginning to deflate by the minute. Thoughts begin swirling in my head, telling me how much of a fraud and a hypocrite I am for the things I said just now. Who was I to tell him he’d be fine? I can’t make reassurances like that, can I? 

_Then again, it was the right thing to say—_

I was overcome with the urge to go home, to smother these feelings with sleep. But it felt wrong to leave him, or dismiss him, after the conversation we just had. He could misunderstand it, thinking it’s something to do with him when it doesn’t. In fact, I haven’t felt this calm for a long time. But I’m starting to go down on a spiral now, ruining my inner peace, and I hate it.

“What’s wrong?” Ren asks, watching me carefully.

I scratch the back of my head, feeling red-handed.

“Rey, what is it?”

“Just the birthday blues, I guess,” I mutter unconvincingly. 

Ren measured me for a moment and as if you could see a light switch on, he becomes the Rose Tico version of him, complete with those eyes gleaming with mischief and excitement. 

“I have an idea.”

Though it shook me to my core to even get out of my comfort zone, I did remind myself I just ditched fifty people (give or take) at a party they threw for me to walk with this handsome stranger. So in turn, I decided to indulge him.

“I’m listening.”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to go clubbing?”

I groan and he mimics me, making me laugh. “I don’t know,” I say. “I haven’t actually been clubbing before and what if it turns out to be a total letdown?”

Ren makes a face. “Hence trying it,” he points out. “How about this: we make a list of everything you always wanted to do and everything you’re _afraid_ to do—”

“I’m not afraid,” I interject but he ignores me.

“—including everything you never had time for, even the most ridiculous ones. What matters is that it has to be something you _want_.”

“That’s a tall order,” I remark, making him shake his head at me. “Fine.”

Ten minutes later, I’m groaning against a wall with a piece of paper Ren gave me earlier. 

“Why is this so hard?” I whined, staring at the blankness of it all.

Ren was out in the street, taking photos at random angles, and looked back at me with his camera pointed in my direction. “You’re thinking way too much,” he says. “I can see it.”

“I disagree,” I replied, looking away. “If anything, I’m not thinking enough.”

“Hey, what’s your favorite dessert?” He asked, distracted.

“Ice cream,” I said without pause. When I looked back at him, I see him fiddling with his lens. But he was grinning from ear to ear. “What?”

“Where’s the best ice cream place in New York?”

“On the top of my head,” I relayed as a disclaimer. “It’s got to be Mo Gelato. But that’s only because—”

“Okay, write that down,” he instructed. 

“Write what down?” I demanded. “Mo closed an hour ago—”

“Just write,” he insisted. “Write it; ice cream at 2 A.M.”

_2 A.M.?_

“Don’t you ever want to get ice cream at a random time of day?”

The answer was yes but I wasn’t going to tell him that. “It’s too cold for ice cream, don’t you think?” I asked instead.

Ren only laughs. “That’s part of the charm. It’ll keep it frozen.”

So I wrote that down and what do you know, it spiraled down into a list. It’s a very ridiculous list but it seems doable.

“I mean, I can’t do all of this in one night,” I start as I hand him the piece of paper that I’m pretty sure is a receipt from a bookstore in Manhattan.

“No,” he agrees. “You can’t do it all in one night.” Then he looks up at me and I know it before his lips even pull up that he was going to smile. “But we can.”

Rey’s Birthday List

  1. _Order a mountain load of ice cream at two in the morning_
  2. _Actually learn how to skate on ice (ideally in Central Park)_
  3. _Get a tattoo with someone (something small and simple)_
  4. _Get thrown out of a bar (because I_ _’_ _ve never broken a rule)_
  5. _Go to a famous club and get picked up by a random stranger_
  6. _Dance in the rain (windy weather will suffice_ _…_ _or a fire hydrant)_
  7. _Get pissed in the office (and take out the bolts in Dameron_ _’_ _s chair)_
  8. _Perform my karaoke song in public (drunk)_



_9.Do the devil_ _’_ _s tango..._


	6. Me & You - Honne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skating in Central Park and dismantling Poe Dameron's swivel chair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> # I’m in your orbit//and I will never drop

Ren and I stopped by his friend’s house to pick up some skates.

He’s still working out how to do the first one if all the good ice cream joints are closed so he decided to get to number two. 

“We’re not doing this by order, right?” I ask, shuffling from foot to foot as we wait for his friend to give us the gear we needed. “And we’re not really doing all of them...right?”

“Why not?” He smiles excitedly, his face illuminated by the yellowish glow of the light behind the glass door.

“Well, for one thing, it’s not raining tonight,” I point out. 

Ren pulls the paper from his pocket and stares at it again. “It says here that if it’s windy, we can still do it.”

“I wasn’t serious about this,” I lied. “It’s ridiculous.”

He simply ignores this and puts the paper back in his pocket. Then he flashes me a smirk and leans in close to me, so close I can taste his cologne. 

“It’s too late to chicken out now, Ms. Johnson.”

I would’ve melted right on the spot given the proximity of his lips to mine if it weren’t for the door opening. A tall woman with cropped blonde hair stands in her pink satin robe, looking bored and irritated. The skates were hanging from the hand holding the door, the other was on her hip. 

“Really, Ren?” She demanded, glaring at my date. “It’s ten o’clock.”

“Sorry, Faz,” he replies, sheepish. “I thought you would’ve just gotten in.”

“I did,” she snaps. “But I don’t like seeing you at night. It freaks me out.”

Ren makes a face but doesn’t retort.

Her eyes drop to me (and when I say drop, it’s because she’s taller than the man next to me and the man next to me is already a mammoth). 

“Who are you?” She asked, too snarky for my taste. 

I extend my hand in an effort to be friendly. “I’m Rey.” 

She takes it gingerly, shaking it once. “Phasma,” she says. “Everyone calls me Faz.”

“Cool,” I whisper. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Oh wait.” She turns to Ren again, realization evident in her tone. “Is she your last…?”

He nods with a proud smile. “My final hurrah before—”

“—before you ditch us like a sellout?” The woman was smiling but her sarcasm didn’t go undetected. Phasma could probably hit Ren on the head like a hammer to a nail and wouldn’t even flinch. I like her very much. 

He sighs at this, defeated. “You got it,” he says without much enthusiasm.

“Give this back tomorrow morning or you’re dead,” she says, throwing him the two pairs of skates. He catches it with ease and I’m thankful they have those covers on the blades or else he’ll be torn in half. 

“And when I say morning, Ren—”

“I know, I know.” He mutters, “Any hour before eleven.”

“Nice meeting you, Rey,” she says to me, dismissive, and then slams the door shut so loud I was afraid it would shatter.

“Wow.”

Ren sighs again. “That was fun.” After a beat, the lights go out and he pipes up again like nothing even happened. “So. Skating?”

  
  


Rey had been wobbling on the ice for more than twelve minutes now. 

I, like the perfect gentleman, am trying  _ not _ to help her because she made me stand nearly a hundred yards—okay,  _ seven feet _ —away, instructing me in all seriousness not to be her human training wheel. 

When I asked her why not, she only said five words: 

“It’s one of my rules.”

_ What are these rules and what are the exceptions?  _ I begin to wonder. Is that why she didn’t let me help her with the ridiculous gift basket this morning? Being the person that I am, it wasn’t hard to stir up my curiosity and I’ve been patiently waiting for my next opportunity to ask her about her rules since she mentioned it.

Unfortunately, I might’ve been staring at her too much because she stops wobbling for a full second—managing to stand perfectly in balance—and puts her hands on her hips as if she hadn’t been looking like a toddler learning to walk a few moments ago.

“What?” Rey looked like she was withholding a laugh while trying to look serious.

_ Adorable _ , my brain automatically noted. 

How a person is able to look as she does just by uttering one word is beyond me. I kept looking at her then, amused by how confidently she held herself. Her chocolate brown hair had been swaying in the light breeze, tendrils of them crossing her face, but she was unshaken. 

“What?” She asks, more gently this time.

Unable to hold it anymore, I blurt out, “What are your rules?”

“What?” Rey says again, pretending not to hear me, but I knew that she did. I’ve been studying her for more than an hour and her tell was simple: she looks away or downwards when she wants to avoid a question. It was honestly the only thing I find that wasn’t uniquely her, but only because we have the same tactic. 

“You said you had these rules. Your list also mentioned that you never break  _ the rules _ .”

“I meant that in a more general context—”

“What are they?” I prompted, trying not to sound teasing. 

Rey tries to wobble towards me and almost falls. I nearly fly towards her, closing in the gap, but I pause midway as she steadies herself. Smiling, she finally gives in.

“Okay.” She breathes out. “Help me. Please.”

“Are you sure?”

Rey nods. “I’m sure.”

It took me only two strides to offer my hand and without hesitation, she takes it. I drop my questions for later and began mimicking Phasma and her many lessons on skating while I held her upright from behind. 

“So,” she starts, slightly breathless. “What else is in your bag of tricks?”

“My bag of tricks…?” I ask, confused.

“You have a way with women, you switch careers overnight, and you can skate. And I’m not even going to elaborate how you pull your charm on people.”

“Ah.” The blush was immediate and I stammer in response, “Don’t forget modest—sure.”

Rey laughs and I notice how much I want to do it again, making her laugh. “That, and if I ever get to see one of your photos, I’d say you’re handy with that as well. Maybe even talented,” she adds. 

“I can show you later, if you want,” I offer, the image of me leading her to the studio forming instantly in my head. It shouldn’t be a bad idea. 

“No, really, Ren,” she mutters. “How are you doing this? Did your parents teach you?”

“How to be charming—no,” I say with a light scoff.

“Skating,” she clarifies but she was already studying me. 

We really shouldn’t talk about my family. It’s a touchy subject, I realize.

“Phasma trains figure skaters as a day job,” I explain. “She taught me a few years back. Not a fond memory,” I say, laughing. “I remember being sore for a week.”

“But you learned,” she noted. “So that paid off.”

“I guess so.”

Rey looks at me as we glide on the ice. Her brows were starting to knit together like she’s calculating something wasn’t adding up.

“What?”

“I just don’t get it.”

“What?” I ask again.

“I don’t understand what you’re so worried about—your new job, I mean,” she says. “You can speak easily to people and make them fall under your spell in second.” She tells me this like this is a footnote on a page she’s writing. Rey wasn’t even looking at me anymore, just thinking aloud. But all the while, her words ring out to me over and over.

“Did I make you fall under my spell?” I ask suddenly before I can think about it.

I was aware of how close we were that I hoped the smell of her perfume would cling to my clothes. Even her shampoo was intoxicating. She was doing things to me without even doing anything. I’ve never experienced that with a client before. 

_ I feel like the one under the spell here, _ I wanted to say. But I didn’t. I might freak her out.

Rey takes a moment to reply and when she did, she sounded unsure.

“If this was real, yes,” she whispers under her breath.

“What makes you think this isn’t?”

We stop for a moment. Rey turns to me with a look that only says ‘are you kidding me?’ and that’s when I remember: I was hired. 

“Right,” I say. “Sorry.”

“Do you get carried away often?”

“Not really,” I admit and we start skating again. “This is a first.”

She doesn’t say anything to that. Instead, she finally relays me her set of rules.

“Rule number one—” she begins. “ _ Never _ sleep with a coworker.”

“Oh.” The word is out of my mouth before I can think it through. “Is that—is that based on experience?” I was afraid to ask, thinking of how tense she was with Poe earlier. 

She pulls away, amused. “I prefer a clean working space, if you know what I mean,” she explains while I sigh quietly in relief. “And to be frank, I don’t see anyone that way in the office.”

“Not even Poe…?” I suggested.

“Hmm?” She was out of my reach now and as she was turning, her foot slips. Rey falls on the ice. She groans.

“Shit! Are you okay?” I crouch in front of her, checking if she bumped her head, but she merely laughs it off. “Easy,” I say. “Did you hit your head? You could have a concussion.”

“Ouch,” but she kept laughing. 

“Yeah, you definitely have a concussion.” I worried now, gently cradling her head. Then I looked down at her and she was looking up at me, measuring me with those beautiful hazel eyes. “What’s your favorite movie?” I decided to check.

Rey rolls her eyes at me, but she was grinning.

“You okay?”

She nodded a bit and holds onto me as I help her up.

“I got you,” I promised.

“You missed me the first time though,” she points out.

This time, it was me who rolled my eyes. “That’s because you let go.”

“Alright, alright,” she concedes. 

We tried skating with me leading her, our hands clasped together while facing each other. She was a quick learner, that’s for sure.

“Nice and slow,” I say when she’s losing her balance again. “So, rule number two?”

  
  


Rule Number Two is a very important one: NO PRYING.

The rule goes both ways. It was one of those things that I brought with me when I left home. Sometimes, knowing everything about a person can hurt you and I didn’t want to go through that again. Of course I don’t tell Ren any of this. Instead I say;

“Don’t be nosy.” No one needs to hear my backstory anyway.

Mistakenly taking it as a command, he backs off and mutters a cute little, “Sorry.” Ren was completely bashful that I had to laugh. I always seem to laugh with him around.

“No, no,” I explain. “That’s my second rule.”

Understanding registered on his face, chuckling to himself. “Got it,” he says. “You don’t like to get in anyone’s business.”

“Exactly,” I remarked. “And I don’t want anyone to be in  _ my _ business.”

He takes me in for a bit, sizing me up. Then Ren looks away, thoughtful. 

“How many rules do you have?”

“Five,” and then I counted them again. “No, wait. There are six.” 

“Which number is the ‘no-helping’ one?”

I giggle at this. “You make me sound deranged when you say it aloud,” I noted but I can’t deny the warmth I’m starting to feel just knowing he’s taken interest in something so unimportant. 

“It’s rule number four,” I tell him. “And it’s not a ‘no-helping’ rule. But there are things that you don’t need help with.”

“I figure skating is one of those things,” he teases.

“No,” I admit. “I actually need help with this.”

Ren slowly pulls me forward and sort of dances me around.

“I got you,” he whispers to me when I started to waver. He watches my footing but I’m watching him. 

_ What a gentle giant,  _ I thought.

He looks up at me and catches me, undeniably entranced. 

“What’s number three?” Ren asks.

I try to remember it, getting lost little by little in the way his eyes glaze over me. I trail off a little, trying to pay attention but failing. I turned away, finding a dead tree a couple of yards away and focused on that instead. Finally, I remember it.

“Only take what you can handle.”

“So how many shots of tequila is that?” He kids.

I find myself confessing. “Honestly? Six. I’m a lightweight.”

“Me too,” he says. Ren lets go of one hand and maneuvers me beside him. He smiles at me, the pride evident on his face. “Is there any rule we can break?”

“Are you asking because you want to break it or because you’re afraid to?” 

Ren tries to decide on that one. “Want to.”

“Well, congratulations,” I tell him. “We’re already breaking number six.”

“Ooh, the last rule.” He grins at me, excited. “What is it?”

“Never buy anything fake.” The response was immediate and direct, and not at all thought through.

Ren drops his gaze and I realize my mistake. I must’ve sounded so condescending and deep within me something broke as I watched his smile fade away. 

“I didn’t mean it like that, Ren,” I say quietly.

“No, that’s alright.” He tries to reassure me with half a smile, breaking my heart further. “On the contrary, though, you didn’t pay for me. So no harm done, right?”

I couldn’t tell if he was joking but I knew the mood had already shifted. We resumed skating, this time at an awkward pace. I wouldn’t be able to take those words back even if I wanted to. I’ve crushed his spirit like the idiot I am.

_ Way to go, Rey. _ I thought, reprimanding myself.

“Can you try to skate around me?” He asks, slowly letting go.

But I hold on and shake my head. “Not yet,” I say. 

Ren only nods and complies. Somehow, that was worse. 

After going on one more loop around the rink, I decided to call it off. He doesn’t say anything and simply followed my lead. More than ever, I wanted to go home. I can’t do any more damage if I’m alone. But then, after he collects the skates from me, he pipes up again. Good as new. Ren puts on a bright smile that doesn’t fully reach his eyes. 

“What do you want to do next?” He asks, pulling out the list. Ren makes a face, wincing. “Are you ready for a tattoo?”

“Um…” I didn’t know what to say, really. Should I just let him go? There’s no point in torturing him any further. He probably hates me now.

“Yeah,” he mutters to himself. “I didn’t think so.”

“Hey!” 

But he only shakes his head at me, smirking or sneering I’m not sure. “You can put on that brave face later but I’m saving you a few more hours of regret if you ask me.”

I thought about that. “Do  _ you _ have a tattoo?”

“That’s confidential.” I take that as a yes. “How about dismantling Poe’s chair? I have a screwdriver in the bag.”

“Why do you have a screwdriver?”

He sighs. “It’s my apartment door. Keeps getting stuck,” he explains. “So? Do you want to pull a prank or what?”

“Yes,” I decided. “Yes, I do.”

And so we packed up our stuff, took a cab towards the large egg-shaped building between two dozen banks and art galleries, and made a pact that if we ever get caught by security, we’ll run like hell and forget it ever happened. (Of course, I won’t be able to completely forget it if I get fired come Monday morning.)

We try to keep a conversation going because, I feared, the silence will be too awkward after the mood I set us in with my comment. Ren knows it too and participates. But then the cab ride was short lived and we were suddenly more worried about getting caught than keeping things as they were earlier this evening. I was hyped up for some reason, filled with adrenaline and the urge to lie, thinking I’ll slip inside the building the same way James Bond would. 

Security was tighter at night, given that our building houses one of the biggest corporations in the U.S. Something as stupid as a prank will not be overlooked.

But when we got there, I was surprised that it was just Old Warrick in the lobby...and a temp. They saw me immediately, nodding in my direction, though there was a slight confusion registering on Warrick’s face.

“Good evening, Miss Johnson.” Then he turns to Ren, looking more confused. Sir—”

“Hey, War,” I say before he can ask for Ren’s name. “Can you do me a favor?”

He was hesitant to pay attention to me, still hung up on the man beside me. This is not good. We were supposed to blend in, not called out like this. 

But then he looks back at me again, brows furrowed, and replies, “Sure, Miss Johnson, what is it?”

“Can you ring me when our cab gets here? I just need to grab something at the office.” I didn't wait for his response and instead began towing Ren towards the elevators.

Old Warrick’s eyes widened but I think he understood.

There had been rumors that employees come up to the building for a little…uh, rendezvous, usually during special occasions. They say that Old Warrick usually lets couples in, his firm belief in love and passion overcoming his duty as a security guard. Seeing as how it’s technically my birthday, I figured it’s not a bad assumption. I don’t worry about my reputation with security and a temp when I’ll only see them twice a day. I mean, I shouldn’t...right?

“What was that?” Ren asks me under his breath.

I can tell he was nervous too. “A distraction,” I say. “Warrick’s reliable on more than a few occasions. Or so I’ve heard. He’d give a signal if someone’s coming.”

He makes a face as the elevator dings. It opens and I slide in while he watches me. “Have you tested that theory?”

“That’s confidential.”

I stifle a grin as the doors close, leaving his mouth agape. There were some things I wish I didn’t know, most of which I’ve gathered from Ms. O herself. I don’t actually know the details but I guessed that’s the reason she made a big fuss to the cleaning crew to disinfect the office—twice—with  _ bleach _ .

When I turned back to Ren, he still had that funny look on his face, so I gave in and told him. “I think my boss caught someone once.”

“Oh?”

“Then some of my coworkers started to talk about it so that’s that.”

“Huh.” Ren looks ahead, eyeing the shifting numbers as we ascend.

“It’s going to work,” I reassured him. “You’re… _ you _ . And it’s my birthday. There’s no other reason they can come up with as to why we’d go back here.” I hoped. 

He smiles at that and for a moment; I feel relief wash through me. I can still make him smile at least. 

“Well, except Ms. O,” I considered. “She’s not one to dabble on rumors. And she knows me better than most people.”

“You two must really be close.”

I noted the low register of his voice and how thoughtful he seemed without even looking at me. “If you’re looking for a Miranda Priestly type, she’s not one.”

“So what is she?” He asks, curious once again. 

I pursed my lips, trying to think of an answer. “She can be tough. Sometimes, she’s so snarky that you’re not sure you’re doing anything right. But by the end of the day, you know she’s trying to teach you something.” Ms. O had been my mentor for two years. There’s not much she didn’t teach me. “She’s a mother hen.”

The elevator stops and the doors open smoothly before us. 

“I’m sure she is.” Ren steps aside and lets me lead.

The office was spacious and unlit, but the windows that stretch from the floor to the ceiling take in so much light from its spectacular view of the city. Cubicles were lined by threes and went on to the end of the large hall, where my desk occupies the entire row. 

I point at it, adjacent to a small glass wall, Leia’s office. “I work right over there,” I say.

“It’s a bit far, isn’t it?” He muses.

“I need to be close to the boss at all times,” I explain. “It’s part of the job description.”

Ren smiles again, giving me an approving look. “I bet you’re good at it too.”

The boardroom sat in the middle and it was the only room that you can’t see through like a fishbowl. The one next to it, the room closest to us, is Dameron’s. I walk over, peeking inside to make sure there are no hidden cameras. I was seldom needed here and only came when Leia didn't call him herself. Ren settles beside me, looking at it too.

“Are you sure about this?” He asks me as he enters the room. 

I turn on the lights and spot the chair. “No,” I admitted. “It’s a childish and stupid prank.”

He pauses midway and turns to back away when I held my hand out for his screwdriver. The smirk that forms on his lips was more than encouraging. “What a rebel,” he notes and hands me the tool. 

“Let’s hope I don’t regret it,” I say and come down to do the job. “Then again, it wouldn’t be so bad to knock him off his high horse every now and then.”

“What’s up with you guys anyways?”

I sigh, thinking about it. 

“That doesn’t sound good,” he remarks, watching me carefully. “Is he being a dick to you or something?”

“Not completely,” I reply quickly, considering the times we’ve actually gotten along. “He’s just—”  _ what’s the word?  _ “—uptight is all. I’ve known Poe since I started working here, but he’s had a stick up his arse over the past year.” 

Ren laughs heartily over this and takes the screw as I successfully loosen it. He slides it underneath the filing cabinet behind us, making me cock my head at him, impressed. 

“That shouldn’t look too suspicious, should it?” He asks.

I check the stability of the chair. Ren seems to like my handiwork as well. Not being drunk enough for this prank makes me rethink this entire situation. “I’ll probably return that bolt come Monday morning,” I tell him. “But it sure does feel good to do it tonight.”

“That should do it then,” he agrees.

I hand him back the screwdriver and he tucks it back in the pocket of his camera bag. The skates were hanging on the strap, looking quite bothersome. 

“Hand me those, will you?” I ask, pointing at them.

He looks at it and tries to swing it out of view. “It’s alright. I got it,” he reassures me. 

But I wasn’t having it. “I have a backpack in my drawer,” I say by way of explanation. “I can bring it. I don’t mind. Your shoulders must be killing you.”

Ren reluctantly hands me the skates with a sigh and follows me out of Poe’s office. Our shadows intertwine on the wall beside us and I imagine taking his hand in mine, connecting us in reality. I shake my thoughts out of my head, trying not to go overboard. This is just for a night. I can’t miss him more than I need to when we part later.

We reached my desk and I was so relieved to find it clean and organized, patting myself in the back for always leaving it in this condition. I began to wonder about this morning. The idea of Ren was just that—an idea—and he was nothing but a silhouetted figure on a card in the Love Provider site. 

Now I’m with him, in this exact same spot. 

“Huh.”

“What?”

“Oh.” I blush. “It’s nothing.”

“So,” he says. “This is where you work.”

“This is it.” I nod at the space with everything in its place.

“You don’t have a window,” he remarks and I realize it’s true. 

My work space is worth three cubicles in a row, but I don’t have the floor-to-ceiling window. It stops in the row before mine. Maybe that’s why I haven’t felt the sunshine in here—or why my succulent is dead. 

“You’re right,” I mutter and move towards the drawer behind my seat.

The dark hallway held an orange glow from the multiple street lights outside, making it easier to navigate through my things. Not that I have a lot of stuff stored in my drawer anyway. I find my backpack and grabbed it.

“I found it!” I exclaim, almost hitting my head on my desk as I try to look up. “Want to take a look around the block?” I offer, finding a couple of toiletries under the bag that I intend to use.

“Sure—if you don’t mind,” he replies.

“Go ahead.”

Ren wandered off then while I sneak in a spray of perfume and a dab of lipstick on my cheeks, thankful for my hygienic kit. I put the skates in my backpack and traded my heels for the bendable flats I’ve been carrying all night.

When I was done, I stood up missing an inch, and found Ren at the other end of the hall. He was staring at the office our new boss will occupy soon. I walked towards him, my steps muffled now and simply stood beside him. Our reflections were clear on the opposite wall of glass. 

“My boss is retiring,” I tell him, sighing.

“You’re going to miss her, aren’t you?” He asks, somewhat rhetorically. 

I nodded. “I’ve learnt so much from her. She’s a really good boss.”

“I bet she’s going to miss you too,” Ren replies. 

I kept staring at the wall, the image of him looking down at me too alluring to look away from. I knew that if I turned now, I might just reach up and kiss him. Curiosity is killing me, but I resist it. I muster a small smile and step inside instead. 

“This one is for the new CEO,” I begin. “He’s got a great view and a mini fridge. You see there, that’s the basket I was carrying this morning.”

“You bought the expensive wine,” he points out.

“Two,” I corrected. “The perks of the company card,” I added proudly. 

“Who needs two bottles of wine?” He demanded, looking them over.

“I bet he only drinks red,” I agreed.

Most of the corporate officials just really love to hoard. I’ve no doubt that this one won’t be so different. And then an idea popped into my head. It was a very irresponsible idea, but it didn’t matter. As I turn to look at Ren, I know he’s thinking it too. 

“Where do you keep the glasses?” He asks, excited, while I make a move into tearing the cellophane off carefully. 

“In the pantry,” I say and direct him to the corner by the elevators. 

Ren hands me his bag and disappears in the shadows. I set it down on the table and turn my attention to my current challenge: the gift basket. While I try to work out how to rearrange it without looking like it’s missing anything, he returns with two mugs and a smug look on his face. 

“Which one should we take though?” I ask, trying to decide between the white and the red. “I mean, what if he has an absolute distaste for one of these? Maybe that’s why we were asked to buy two so we can play it safe.”

“Just take the red,” he decided. “I’m sure he won’t mind.”

I peel at the opening then. “Yeah, he won’t mind.”

Ren laughs and watches me work. I take out the red wine with dainty fingers and hand it to him while he put the mugs on the table, next to his camera bag. I redo the placement of the crackers and the cheese and put the wine bottle left dead center. The ribbon was detachable so I didn’t have to worry about that. I take a step back to examine my work with Ren nodding in approval. 

“I can hardly tell,” he says. “Now let’s get you drunk in the office, shall we?”

The mugs on the table were undoubtedly Finn and Rose’s. One had a pug’s face printed on it and the other a rose. It was too on the nose, but it was their gift to each other last Christmas. It was sweet. 

Ren pops open the bottle of wine, pulling the cork out with ease. 

“Here’s to you,” he says cheerfully. 

“And to my new boss,” I add.

He fills the mugs and hands me one—Rose’s—while he takes a tentative sip. We decided to let the wine breathe a while, sitting on the carpeted floor in a room that smelled of new furniture. I wondered about my new boss and how everything will drastically change come Monday morning. We didn’t even do a proper farewell party for Miss O. His eyes were glued to me, watching me. I stare back as I drink, wondering why he was still here with me.

“What?” I finally ask, trying to hide behind the mug.

He puts down his. “Do you mind if I take a photo of you?”

I almost choke on my drink. “Me…?”

“Yes.”

I take that into consideration and try to imagine him capturing me with that huge lens, seeing through me like no one has done before. No one’s bothered before, anyway. I know he brought the camera as a commemoration of his last night as a rented persona, and I don’t want to hinder him from that. He’s already taken a bunch of photos from the party. He’s taken a photo of me as well, catching me off guard while we were sitting at our table. But this, right now, I don’t know…

“Does this look memorable?” I asked, looking around us in this dark office space.

He nods and leans over to take his camera. “It does to me.” 

Ren wasn’t looking at me, too busy fidgeting with the lens, but he sounded so earnest in his request. I couldn’t deny him anything. 

“Okay,” I reply, gazing down at my drink. “How do you want me?”

There was a short moment before his response that made me tense up, like buzzing electricity, and I knew immediately he was already looking at me. When I looked up, he had his camera focused on me and said, “Just like that.”

I heard a click and then it was done. This part of the night will forever be immortalized. Even as he released the canister and replaced it with a new one, he kept his eyes on me. 

“I’m sorry about what I said,” I finally blurted out. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

He shrugs this off easily with a small smile to ease my guilt. “It doesn’t matter.”

I didn’t know what to make of that and stayed quiet instead, mulling it over. 

“Can I ask you something personal?”

“Go ahead,” I say, thinking it was the least I can do. 

Ren turns his whole body to me, facing me completely, like he wanted to give me his full attention more so than he did this entire night. “Why are you alone?”

“What do you mean?”

“I just…” and he breathes out, finding the right words. “It’s hard to believe that someone like you would be alone.”

“What, with my foul mouth?” I joked, but it didn’t take.

“I think loneliness doesn’t suit you at all.”

I decided to be direct this time, sensing his solemn tone. “Being alone and being lonely are two different things,” I clarify.

“I know,” and he really seemed to. “So, why are you?”

I suddenly wanted to take it back. Being personal with someone never suited me. My walls were coming up fast and I squirmed uncomfortably in my seat. No wonder he wanted to look at me now. He wanted my honesty. And yet I could also see that he was simply being curious and not invasive. I know that if I say I don’t want to talk about it, he’ll drop it completely. Somehow, that means something to me.

So I tried to answer him as best I could—as earnest as I could possibly get. “I’m fine being lonely. Aren’t you?”

His brows furrowed at this and his eyes dropped to his hands for a second. “Isn’t that kind of sad?” The question didn’t sound like it was for me. Ren was lost to his own musings, it seems.

“Sad is a familiar feeling,” I mutter. “I don’t mind it so much.”

There was a familiarity in the way his eyes glazed over my face. I’m getting so used to his eyes on me that I wonder if I’ll be able to handle tomorrow without them. 

“I know exactly what you mean,” he whispers.

We stayed like that for a moment; two strangers understanding each other so well, suspended in time. I feel myself inching towards him like a moth to a flame, but only if the flame was also reaching up for me. And then I remember. This isn’t real. 

I pull back, the moment passing us by like a train would, leaving us a bit shaken. But the connection was too loud to ignore now—that or my overactive imagination. 

I chugged down the wine on my mug and reached for a refill. Ren laughs but obliges me, downing his drink and pouring himself another as well. 

“I don’t think we’ll get properly pissed here,” I tell him. “Not unless you’re hiding hard liquor in that bag of yours.”

“No, not unless we finish the whole bottle,” he agrees. “We could always go to a proper bar though, if you really want to get drunk.”

In-sync, we decided, “Bar,” and laughed at how fast we chose to go down that route.

“Bar it is, then.” Ren raises me his mug and I bump it gently with my own. “Last one for the road.” 

But before we could drink to that, the elevator doors opened.

“Shit,” I squeaked, pulling him down with me behind the table, and ended up pulling him down  _ on me _ instead. “Sorry,” I mouthed at him. 

We were frozen in that position for a good five seconds as a shadow walked across the hallway, swaying a bit and muttering a prayer. Ren and I peek as the light in Poe’s office turns, illuminating him in his drunken state. He shies away from the brightness before entering, staggering inside. We look at each other, intending to laugh, and realize how close our lips are to touching that if we move—

I turn away. Ren grabs his things and holds out his hand for me. I take it quickly, snatching the backpack beside me. We abandon the mugs and dart towards the elevator.

But then the elevator  _ dings _ , sliding open to reveal Finn. He looks at me, stunned, then he sees Ren beside me, equally startled. 

_ Oh no _ .

Not that Finn would ever tell on me. But still,  _ oh no _ as in someone would figure out that it was me—

“What are you doing here?” Finn and I demanded from each other just as a loud crash can be heard from Poe’s office. 

“MOTHER—”

Finn steps out of the elevator, concerned. And just before the doors close, Ren takes my hand, and we run. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have another playlist just for this fic and you can follow it on Spotify! Just search 'Breakfasts at Midnight' and right now it has 30 songs. I'll be adding more over the next couple of weeks (or whenever a song inspires me to write a scene). Thank you for reading!


	7. Between Two Lungs - Florence + The Machine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ren and Rey run into Rose and Armitage. Rey wants to go clubbing. Luckily for them, Armi knows a guy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> # That slipped from your mouth into mine, it crept.

We ran a good five blocks, howling past Old Wick and a few poor bystanders, as we laughed our way through like maniacs.

We were hardly drunk and whatever alcohol we consumed was sure to have been eased off by the run. Our hands were clasped together tightly, my face red from exertion, and his forehead was damp with sweat.

“Are you okay?” He asked breathlessly.

I realize that I too was a little out of breath. But I was nodding at him, grinning from ear to ear. “I’ve never felt so alive—and just a tiny bit childish.”

“That’s normal,” he reassures me. “So, what do you want to do next?”

“Shall we consult the list?”

He pulls it out but just as he did, I hear a high-pitch scream coming from the other side of the curb. For a second, I thought it was just noise; some twenty-something having the time of her life. Then I look up and see Ren staring, confused, at the little person screaming.

“REY—”

“Rose?”

She waves her arms at me. The tall, ginger-haired man was standing beside my friend, stifling a laugh and simultaneously looking embarrassed next to her.

When we crossed the intersection, she hugged me ferociously and stepped back to look me over in case I was injured.

“Where have you been?” She demanded, her excitement now turning into annoyance. “Ms. O came in with your cake and you weren’t there.”

 _Shit_. “She did?”

“Yeah,” she replied like I should’ve expected this.

But yes. Maybe I should’ve expected Ms. O to do that for me. _Shit_.

Rose watches me worry over this and tries to shake it out of me. “I got the cake, don’t worry. I put it—” she pauses and turns to Ginger Man. “Where did I put it again?”

“Your fridge,” he reminds her. “I’m Armitage, by the way,” he tells me, extending his hand. “Lovely flat you’ve got.”

“Thank you…?” I said, unsure if a stranger should’ve been with Rose in our apartment while she was clearly drunk. “Um…do you need me to take you home?” I ask her now. “We can go home, it’s fine.”

But Relentless Rose strikes again. She bats me away. “ _We_ are _not_ going home. _We_ are going clubbing. Right, Armi?”

I turn to Armitage, brows raised.

He suddenly seemed uncertain if he should respond and looked to Ren for help. Ren turns to me and raises his arms in surrender.

“Your call, babe,” he mutters.

“What?” Rose demanded, annoyed again. “Armi,” she whines. “You said your friend has a club.”

To this, Armi grins and raises his brows at Ren. I, in turn, raise my brows at him too. “You own a _club_?”

“I do not!” He denies quickly before punching Armitage in the arm.

“Oh, but you do,” his friend replies. “Well, technically, it’s his grandpa’s,” Armi informs me.

I gape at Ren. “You said you’ve never been!”

He pursed his lips, looking absolutely mortified. “I haven’t been lately. Does that count?”

“You are such a liar, Ren,” Armi leers at him, making Ren glare back.

“I haven’t been there since—” and Ren stops mid-sentence, trailing off. He looks away, trying to act like he wasn’t about to say anything.

Armi only smiles, catching him in the act.

“Well…?” He prompted.

“Ooh,” Rose croons. “Were you really naughty, Ren?” I get that she’s drunk but this was Rose amplified.

“What did you do?” I ask, curious now too.

Ren was cornered, sighing, and defeated. “Just—don’t draw too much attention when we get there, okay?”

“AYE-AYE, CAPTAIN SIR!” Rose yells, giddy. 

I shake my head at her, sensing trouble.

“This is going to be a problem,” Ren mumbles to himself.

And I couldn’t agree more.

So, this was a bad idea.

The last time I’ve been to the Dark Siders, I was in my early twenties, carrying a company on my shoulders. I was troubled with the legacy of my family and the reputation I already had.

My grandfather liked having me around though, and that was a comfort. Unfortunately, he liked having me so much that I didn’t want to leave the club—not even for important conferences and business meeting. I would come in the office, drunk or nursing a hangover and that was fine by me because I thought it would lessen the pressure if they think I’m not taking it seriously.

I mean, I really was trying my best. But things just got out of hand.

When I got fired—or did I quit?—I was upset. And I was a huge idiot. I rallied these boys that were in the club that night and we began thrashing the place. At one point, someone started a fire. Again, things got out of hand.

Not only was Gramps fuming mad, my uncle was too. He was managing the business that night, coming out of his vacation from Ireland, and he fell asleep on the job—right as I smashed all the bottles in the bar and the DJ got thrown out of his booth by this bozo who thought he could do a better job.

Coming here now, I expect posters with my face on it to keep me from entering. It was years ago, sure, but I know Gramps can hold a grudge.

“Do we just go in?” Rey asks, looking a little worried. “We can go someplace else,” she tells me quietly.

“Rey, do you hear that?” Rose pulls her away and goes into an alley. We follow them quickly and hear the thump of the live music inside.

“Is that…?” Rey trails off as her eyes widen in recognition. “That’s Florence!”

Armi smirks at me like he’s planned this whole thing. The urge to flip him off was strong, but I held it in.

Well, there’s no going back now. The birthday girl wants to see Florence live. I’d be a jackass to deny her that.

“Promise me you’ll keep a low profile?” I say, mostly to Rose who starts to jump up and down.

She bobs her head like a pup and grins at Rey. “You’re finally going to see her live! I can’t believe it!”

Then she looks at me, mouthing a quick ‘thank you’ and this whole ordeal was somehow bearable. I take her hand and approach the backdoor, hoping that no one had the bright idea to guard it. I open it carefully and peek inside. Empty.

Rey goes in first then Rose. I don’t wait for Armi and slip inside before him, thankful for the dark and the loud music, letting us go by unnoticed.

“You go on ahead,” I tell her, taking her backpack with me.

Rey leans up and kisses my cheek. “Thank you for this.”

Rose drags Rey to the middle of the crowded room and starts shouting the lyrics of _Shake It Out_. I try to recover from that lip action, my cheeks undoubtedly blushing from her lips landed, while Armi and I try to find a booth.

“So,” he yells over the loud music, trying to start off a conversation. “What have you two been up to?”

I roll my eyes at him. “As if you’re interested,” I say. “What’re you doing with Rose? You’re supposed to be on your night off.”

“I am,” he replies. “Rose isn’t a customer.”

“I should hope not.”

Armi gives me a grim look. “She’s really nice, Ren.”

“So what are you doing with her then?”

He shrugs, like this was pretty standard for him. “I’m helping her out.”

“With what…?” I find a small table near the bar and claim it before a couple of questionable age could slide in.

“Nice move,” Armi remarks dryly and sits opposite me. “You know you’re not actually hired tonight, right?”

“What?”

“You’re not _officially_ hired, Ren,” he reiterates. “Rose isn’t a member. Neither of them is.”

I take a moment to process that. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that you’ve been on a date, not a job.” Then he leans back with that smug grin, looking at me like I’m an idiot. “You still are.”

_I am?_

“Rose couldn’t book you so I sort of booked you for her—or for her friend. But you’re not getting paid for this, that’s what I’m helping her out with. Are you listening to me?” Armi frowns, his brow once again stitching themselves together. “What are you so happy about? You’re not getting a dime off of this.”

I didn’t realize I was smiling till he pointed it out. I stand up from my seat and tell him I’ll be right back.

 _Between Two Lungs_ start playing and I spot Rose’s bobbing head amidst the crowd. I go to them quickly, squeezing myself through strangers who are more than happy to tell me to go off. With every beat of the drum, I feel my heart thumping against my chest.

Rose sees me and waves me over.

“Where’s Armi?” She yells over the music. And seeing my face, despite her drunken state, I think Rose understands because she mouths something at me that I didn’t catch and the next thing I know, she’s dancing away, leaving me with Rey.

I stand there for a moment, watching her immersed in the music. Then she finally sees me and gifts me with that wide smile, casting away any shadows that lurk in my universe.

“Can you believe this?”

 _No_ , I thought. _No, I can’t._

Ren was leaning over me with a funny look on his face.

“What?” I ask him.

“Can I tell you something?” He asks. “Something really important…?”

We were in the middle of a raging crowd. The club was dimly lit by red neon lights and the smoke from the fog machine gives off an eerie effect. And yet here he was, looking at me like we were the only ones in the room.

Only it did feel exactly like that.

I don’t know what made me do it. Maybe it was just a feeling. Maybe it was from running a couple of blocks and the late rush of adrenaline. Maybe it was Florence and her machine of making you fall in love with the cosmic phenomenon called fate.

Or maybe I just really wanted to.

I stand on the tips of my toes and close the two-inch gap between our lips, letting myself crash into him with such a gentle force. My heart was hammering against my lungs along with the music. I could almost delude myself into thinking that Florence was narrating this very experience for me. It was my first kiss.

 _Gone are the days of begging, the days of theft_ indeed.

His arms enveloped me in this tight embrace like an automatic response. And when he kissed me back, it knocked the breath out of me. How we ended up in the dark hallway leading to the bathrooms, I didn’t know. What kept going through my mind was how Ren held me up against the wall, my legs locked around his waist, like I weighed nothing.

“Rey,” he gasped against my lips. “I don’t want to stop.”

I smiled. “Then don’t.”

He grins up at me, obliging my request. We could’ve stayed there for hours if it wasn’t for the abundance of judgmental stares.

“We should really figure this out later,” I finally decided and he lets me down. We duck our heads and try to find our friends, all the while blushing at how swollen our lips had become now.

When we found the booth they were waiting in, there was a half-eaten plate of nachos and four sweating bottles of beer.

“Where have you two been?” Armi asked, staring at us suspiciously.

“The line was long,” I reply, sliding in the seat in front of them.

“To the toilets…?” Rose looked confused, grabbing another nacho. “I was just there. You must’ve taken too long because there was this couple that kept going at it—”

I freeze just as Ren sits down, his face reddening too. Rose looks up and looks at the two of us, back and forth like a tennis ball was being served, and for a brief moment I hoped she wouldn’t realize it. And then—

“OH MY GOD!”

I look down, absolutely mortified.

She kept pointing at me then at Ren. “YOU TWO—”

“Way to go, Ren,” Armi mumbles somewhat approvingly before taking a sip of his beer. “Cheers,” he says to me, teasing.

Rose was still in the midst of it. “I CANNOT BELIEVE—REY, I AM SO PROUD OF YOU!” But before I could acknowledge that—or not acknowledge it—she pulls a face. “That’s gross though. Don’t _ever_ do it in the toilet rooms, that shit is unsanitary.”

“We weren’t—” I start to say, but she was back to it.

“Do we leave you guys alone? What’s the game plan here? Because it is _your_ birthday, and I’m at your command here, missy.”

“Slow down.” I laugh. “We’re just—” I look at Ren, hoping he’d fill in the blanks. But he wasn’t looking at me. He was hardly even paying attention.

_What is this?_

“We’re just having fun,” I decided. It was probably a spur of the moment thing. We got carried away. This is just his job anyway…right?

With that, he gazes at me, looking a bit deflated.

“Yeah, sure,” he mumbles. “How about you go on completing number five? I’ll catch up with you later.” Ren hands me the list and stalks off.

I stare at the list, only two of them struck off.

  1. _Order a mountain load of ice cream at two in the morning_
  2. _~~Actually learn how to skate on ice (ideally in Central Park)~~_
  3. _Get a tattoo with someone (something small and simple)_
  4. _Get thrown out of a bar (because I_ _’_ _ve never broken a rule)_
  5. _Go to a famous club and get picked up by a random stranger_
  6. _Dance in the rain (windy weather will suffice_ _…_ _or a fire hydrant)_
  7. _~~Get pissed in the office (and take out the bolts in Dameron~~_ _ ~~’~~_ _ ~~s chair)~~_
  8. _Perform my karaoke song in public (drunk)_
  9. _Do the devil_ _’_ _s tango..._



Number Five: Go to a famous club (check) and get picked up by a random stranger…

Maybe saying it was all just for fun was the wrong move. I look for Ren, thinking that with his height, it would be impossible not to find him. But there was this terrible gut feeling inside of me that was telling me he doesn’t want to be found; that he’s left. Maybe this was it.

“I’ll see you guys later,” I say to Rose and quickly walk off to the bar, craving a drink before I head home.

“A shot of tequila please,” I tell the bartender just as a man, maybe two or three years my senior, plops down next to me and leans over, smelling of alcohol.

“How’re you tonight, sunshine?” He coos, tucking my hair behind my ears.

I pull away quickly. The bartender gives me the drink and the guy reaches for it. I wasn’t having it though, swiping it before he can. I down my drink and try to leave it at that, tipping the bartender. But when I try to walk away, he grabs my arm, pulling me to him.

“You’ve all been wonderful tonight,” Florence says to the microphone, still barefoot up on that stage. “For our last song, I want to hear you sing with me.”

It felt like a cue because as soon as I heard it, I knew what to do.

The band plays _A Kiss With A Fist_ and just like that, my fist connected with this man’s jaw, sending him backward.

“You, bitch!” He growls, getting up, and aims for me.

But then, someone hits his head with a bottle.

“Ren!”

“Is this part of your list?” He asks me as he dodges an incoming punch from someone I assume is with the pervert.

And what do you know, we’ve started a fight.

“What happened to low profile?” I yell as I chuck a small bowl of nuts at another guy who was about to hit Ren from behind.

Another tries to come for me, but grabbing an empty bottle from the counter, I throw it at his head and kick him in the chest.

It was at this time that I really wished I’d paid more attention in my krav maga classes. There were at least two more that I had to deal with while Ren fights off three, the pervert still unconscious at my feet. When he tried to get up, I simply kick him down and try not to get hit myself. The bartender was furiously talking over the phone, no doubt calling for the police.

A man with an 88 tattoo tries to grab me, but while I successfully evaded his arms, I failed to notice the other one swiping at my feet. I fall down, rather harshly, but I take that time to kick one of them in the nuts. I pull myself up just as Ren smashes a bottle of Jack on 88’s face.

The brawl must’ve caught attention because the next thing I know, the bouncers were coming in. To be honest, I’m surprised it took them _this_ long.

“Oh shit,” Ren mutters next to me, taking my hand in his.

A man in a tight black sweater and leather pants appears from what I think is an office, escorted with two very large men.

“Oh shit, shit, shit,” Ren says again, pulling me towards the back.

“Don’t tell me that was your dad—”

He shakes his head. “Worse,” he replies. “That’s my Gramps.”

“The one in the leather pants?”

“The one in the leather pants,” he confirms.

I think about that for a minute, mulling over the fact that his granddad didn’t look like his age at all. But then again, he was at least a hundred yards from me so how was I to really know?

We head towards the backdoor and as soon as we slip outside, we set off running in the other direction. We hear a door slamming behind us and a figure stood on the curb, looking after us.

“BEN!”

I must’ve misheard it because Ren makes a face, but we don’t stop.

“Keep running,” he says and we do.

We kept running. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I still have readers! It took me a while to post an update because I realized I hadn't been writing this the way I wanted to. So I rewrote the whole thing (no major changes, don't worry), but I added a lot of scenes in between and fixed a few 'transitions' (if that makes sense). I haven't posted the updated ones though, BUT I WILL. 
> 
> There's so much I want to write for these two, and there's more coming, but for right now this is all I have to offer. I noticed that there are other fics I haven't gotten around to finishing (like my fix-it) so I'll also pay attention to that once I finish this one. I hope you stick around for that too. 
> 
> ANYWAY, if you liked this chapter (or this story, really) please don't hesitate to give a heart or a shout! It really helps boost my confidence that I'm heading in the right direction with this one. I can't say when my next update will be but I'm trying my best :) stay healthy and stay safe!


	8. My My My! - Troye Sivan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More running. A train ride. And a sketchy pet shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> # Let's stop running from us//Running from us

Ren pulled me into an alley and checked to see if the coast was clear.

Meanwhile, I tried not to double over as the tequila makes an unwanted turn in my gut. I’ve never really been one to drink, and to think I put a club and a bar in our itinerary tonight is nothing short of ridiculous. Ren returns in front of me and holds my face up to the light.

“Are you okay?” He asks, inspecting my cheeks and forehead for any bruises.

I shook my head at him. “Are _you_?” I hold his face now too, wincing at the small cut near his brow. “Shit. Ren.”

“I’m fine.” He holds my hand in place, looking down at me with a funny grin, before ruffling my hair. “I didn’t know you can throw a good punch.”

“Neither did I,” I say, smiling. “Thank you—for sticking up for me.”

“I _am_ your boyfriend,” he reminds me. “It was the least I could do.”

For some reason, that saddened me a little. I mean, clearly he’s a gentleman. But it also brings me back to reality: this isn’t real. 

“This isn’t going to be a habit now, is it?” He asks with his mouth turned up in a half-smile. I can tell he was suppressing the urge to laugh. “I don’t think I can keep running all night.” 

“You’re the one who keeps running off,” I point out, laughing. 

“You started a fight,” he retorts. “What was I supposed to do?”

“He grabbed me!” I explain. With this, his expression darkened briefly. I try to ramble on to distract him. “My instincts kicked in. I didn’t actually think I’d hit him square in the face.”

It works. Ren smirks, nodding. “Good instincts though,” he mutters approvingly. 

He looks at me a while longer before his phone rings unceremoniously. He answers it quickly and after a ‘yes’ and ‘you got it,’ he turns to me excitedly. Just like Rose. 

“To be safe from, you know...possible assailants,” he starts to say. “How about we go to the other side of the city?”

“Okay,” I decide easily and he takes my hand like it was the most natural thing to do. 

And maybe it is. Maybe in this version of my life, I’m actually with someone like Ren who will hold my hand and send about a thousand butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I let that be the version I live in tonight. After all, apart from trying to win over some of my colleagues, the point is to have fun. 

We walk towards the subway, lured in by the sound of smooth jazz echoing in the platforms. The midnight feeling of being with him struck me in awe, relishing the fact that for the first time since my parents, I wasn’t completely alone in celebrating the first hour of my birthday. Rather, I didn’t _feel_ alone. 

“What was it?” I ask him as the busker playing in the background changes the song. 

“What was what?” Ren asks quietly, slinging his arms around my shoulders and pulling me to him from behind. 

“At the club, what was it you were going to tell me? You said it was important.” The act was automatic, holding on to his arms and leaning on him.

He sucks in a breath, his lips close to my ear. And right when I thought he was going to whisper something to me, he simply pecks my cheek. 

“I’ll tell you later. Our train’s here.”

The train slowly slides on the track. The busker’s music gets drowned out by the announcement on the overhead speakers. Our ride hisses to a stop and Ren leads me in as the doors open, choosing a seat opposite a woman with a young boy whose eyes were directed at me in a cheerful gaze. Ren rests his head on my shoulder as we ride in silence, the rhythm of the subway ringing in my ears as it picks up speed. We sway against each other, rocked by the sheer force of the tires against the tracks. We pass by several stations, their lights flicking past.

His phone rings again, but this time Ren ignores it. The absence of mine makes me perk up, looking around for my backpack. 

“Ren.”

“Hmm..?”

“I think we left my stuff at the club,” I say, slightly panicked. “My shoes, your skates, my _phone_ ,” then I thought of Rose, the panic growing now at the immediate realization that she’s probably trying to reach me as we speak. And also that I’m basically helpless, with no money and no way to communicate with my friends, and will have to severely rely on Ren if I want to get home. 

But then my supposed boyfriend simply shrugs his shoulders and hands his mobile to me. “Armi has it. Don’t worry.” 

His screen lights up, showing text notifications from Armi over a black and white wallpaper. Then looking at it more closely, I find a familiar pattern on the photo, reminding me of my bed sheets. And then—

“Where did you get this?” I nearly shriek, horrified at the sight of a stolen picture of me _sleeping_ in my bed. My eyes had dark shadows under them, amplified by the black and white effect, and I can nearly trace a line of drool around my mouth. 

Ren glances at it and smiles. “Rose sent it to me this morning.”

I groan inwardly. “Unlock it please,” I beg urgently. 

“Not if you’re going to change it,” he replies, nonchalant. “That’s my cover, remember?”

_A cover_ , my mind badgers me, mocking me at every turn. I sigh. “Alright,” I mutter begrudgingly. “But can’t we just—”

“No,” he insisted and though I heard no signs of teasing on his end, it still bothered me. He was serious. “Besides, I like it. You look so at ease.” 

I wave the phone in front of him, unlocking instantly with a face recognition. “Should I just ring Armi or do I text him instead? He’s still with Rose, right?” I ask, flipping through his contacts.

“Yes.”

I wait for him to elaborate and also for some bloody signal to go on.

“Yes, he’s still with Rose,” he confirms. “And yes, you can call him as soon as we’re out of the tunnel. He’s left me like twelve messages already.”

“We should turn back,” I tell him. “We can meet them at the station.”

“We promised a night to remember, didn’t we?” He asks rhetorically.

I nodded.

“So stop worrying,” he says. “I’ll get Armi to catch up with us if you want. Maybe he can even get Rose sober. That man has a lot of tricks up his sleeves.”

“But I don’t have anything,” I counter. “I don’t have my phone or my wallet. I don’t even have my coat,” and it’s funny because I don’t even remember taking it off. 

“Ah, but you have me,” he tells me as I’ve forgotten this little fact. “I got you, Johnson.”

I peek at him now, seeing him smiling with his eyes closed. “Ren…?”

“Yes?” He smiles wider.

“Where are you taking me?”

The train stops. The mother and her child get off, disappearing towards the flight of stairs ahead. The doors close and we are once again carried away, the train rumbling around us. Ren sits up straight and looks at me. Then he looks down at his hand, palm up, and waits for me to take it. 

When I don’t immediately relent to his subtle request, he says, “You promised me you were mine for the night too.”

It was a promise I made when I first took his hand back at Maz’s. And I’ve taken his hand several times since. 

“Rey.”

But I keep staring at his hand which he has now put on my lap. 

“Please?”

“What were you going to say to me at the club?” I ask instead. “Tell me that and you can take me anywhere, no questions asked.” My eyes wandered to his lips, remembering our kiss. And all I wanted to do now was do a repeat of that moment. 

_I’ll do anything you want me to do_ , I thought, watching him breathe. 

“Okay,” and there was a little sigh that escaped him. “I was only going to ask if I could…”

“What?” I ask, slightly out of it, feeling breathless.

“I wanted to know if you would…”

“What?”

Inch by inch, we closed the gap till we were breathing each other in but not entirely touching. “Rey.”

“What?” The question came out quietly now.

“Please?” That tiny quiver his lips made simply unravels me.

His arm snakes around my waist immediately as I launch myself on his lips, capturing a kiss and getting that taste of him back in my tongue. He pulls me closer, as if it was possible to be any closer than this, and soon I find myself straddling a man twice my size in an empty car of a fast-moving train. 

“I’ve never done this before,” I tell him. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

Ren moves to kiss along my jaw before whispering in my ear, “That’s okay. I’m here.”

“No, I—” I pull away, taking a breath. “I mean, I’m very attracted to you. And I haven’t been—I have _never_ —”

“It’s okay, Rey,” he says again, holding my waist so I don’t topple over. “I told you. We can stop at any time. If you don’t feel comfortable—”

“But that’s just it,” and it comes out frustrated. Maybe I am alarmingly frustrated at a lot of things that’s happened tonight. “I feel _too_ comfortable, Ren.”

“And that’s...a bad thing?” He looks completely confused.

“No,” I admit, holding his face with both hands. “No, it’s not.”

He sighs, relieved. 

“I know we only have tonight,” I say quietly. “But—”

“But this is going too fast.” He wasn’t complaining. In fact, I see him understanding my predicament. “I get it,” he murmurs, pushing a tendril of my hair behind one ear. “You don’t have to worry. You control this entire thing, Rey. I’m here at your disposal.”

_You don’t have to worry about him is what he wanted to say,_ I thought. _You don’t have to worry about what_ he _wants._

This leaves me feeling deflated. I was no better than a criminal, keeping this man hostage. I dismount him and plop down in the seat next to him, trying to keep it together. I told myself not to get confused, to not buy into the idea. And yet here I am, utterly lost. 

I look at the facts then, a trick I do when I’m in a bind. Laying it out and putting things in order is what I do best after all.

**What I Know:**

  * **I’m having fun. It’s not the quiet walk in the city that I intended but it’s somewhat close to that (if running around punching people and wreaking havoc is in the ballpark of quiet).**


  * I like him. I do. I like spending time with him. I like him smiling at me. I like the way he makes me feel. But;


  * This isn’t real. This is an all paid-for birthday gift that was supposed to show my colleagues that I’m human too and a ‘hey, why don’t we bond over this party with my hottie?’ kind of thing. 


  * I ditched all of them to be *alone.


  * I ditched all of them to be alone _*with him_.



On the other hand, there were a couple of things I  _ don’t _ know. But the most crucial of them is this:

  * **Is it possible he feels the same way?**


  * Has he ever fallen for someone he ‘worked with’?


  * HOW CAN I TELL?



Being as inexperienced as I am, the only person I can really ask is Rose. But I can’t do that because of the following; (1) I’m afraid she’ll feel sorry for me, (2) she’ll definitely tell me she told me so, (3) I don’t have my phone. 

Even if I observe every little thing Ren does tonight, this one fact rings true: he was paid to do it. I know that he’s someone good, someone I can trust, and maybe I’m stupid for thinking this given we’ve only spent a couple of hours together.  _ But _ I think that’s just him being the stand-up guy that he is. He said it himself. He wouldn’t have lasted this long in this line of work if he wasn’t good at it. 

I feel like Joaquin Phoenix in that movie where he falls in love with the voice of Scarlett Johanson. And honestly, who wouldn’t? But still, the lines of reality blur in that and I don’t know if it should matter or not. 

I want to ask Ren this. I know that he’ll be honest with me. But that scares me even more. Before I can ponder on it longer, he tells me that this is our stop. He outstretches his hand to me, and this time, I don’t hesitate. 

We exit on a dark street illuminated by various neon lights in separate shops. Words written in Chinese hang from one store to the next and Ren leads me to a small pet shop (or is it a restaurant?), all the way to the back where a tall gangly man waited in front of a black curtain.

“Finally,” he says to Ren. “I thought you were never going to show up!”

“Relax, Pryde,” he replies, unbothered. “We were late for five minutes.”

“Time is money here, boy.”

“You should really put up a sign at the front though,” Ren mutters. 

“It’s midnight,” I interject thoughtlessly, making a face. “I’m pretty sure things are pretty slow in this time of night, yeah?”

I turn to see Pryde frown at me. Ren squeezes my hand once. 

“We’re here now.” And he flashes his award-winning smile at the old man, trying to win the old man over. 

“What is this?” I ask him as quietly as I can while Pryde glares at me. 

“Follow me,” Pryde mutters and with a giant swoop, he unveils what’s behind the curtain. It was another curtain, but this time I can hear something whirring. “Well?”

Ren and I walk together through it and what I take in first is the low ceiling filled with vinyl records and the cyan neon light that scribbles out a word I can’t exactly read. The walls were mint green, half of them anyway, while the other half is covered with black and white tiles that run all throughout the floor, bleeding a checkered pattern. Several seats were lined up, not unlike you see in a dentist’s office, but they were made of worn out leather in various shades of maroon and black. A fish tank sits in the middle, housing...nothing. There wasn’t any fish. But it gives off an effect, this brightly-lit aquarium. 

I know what it looks like, I guess, and it’s coming together in my head. But it still didn't quite register until Pryde called his associate, a stocky old man sporting a muscle tee with arms covered in tattoos. 

“Oh.” I start to laugh nervously. “Wait.”

Ren caught on quickly and anchored me to his side. “You said I can take you anywhere—”

“Yes, but I never said we can do  _ anything _ —”

“It’s on  _ your _ list, remember?” He was laughing and so was I, but he was more confident, knowing he can carry me over his shoulder and be done with this.

“Jesus christ,” Pryde mutters. “Are we doing this or what?”

“I don’t know!” I exclaim just as Ren replies;

“We’ll do it!” Then he turns to me, brows raised and patient. “This was part of the plan. We had to do it some time.”

“I want to take it back,” I whine.

“Listen,” the other man says. “If you don’t want to do it, we’re not forcing you to.”

“Canady!” Pryde scolds. “It’s been a slow night. We are  _ not _ losing customers.” Then the gangly old man turns to me with a half-snarl. “Toughen up, girl!”

Ren only laughs, keeping his hold tight one me. “Okay, back off, Pryde,” he says, trying to placate him. “I told you she’d chicken out.”

“Then what are you here for?” Pryde demanded. 

I hold back a bit, but it ultimately gets the best of me. “What do you mean I’ll chicken out?” I said, pretending not to be too offended. 

Ren only makes a face at me as if I haven’t been arguing with him in the last five seconds. “I mean,” he starts to say.

“What?”

“I just wanted to see if you were actually going to go through with it,” he admits. “But I promise you we can walk out of here unscathed.”

“Speak for yourself,” Pryde grumbles.

I narrow my eyes at him now but don’t comment.

“Come on.” Ren steers me back. “We can drink beer at the bar down the street.”

“Now, hold up!” I don’t know why I was suddenly fighting this, but I don’t stop myself.

“What?”

I pause, finally thinking it over. “We’ll get it at the same time, right?”

Ren bites down at his lip to keep himself from smiling. “Sure. And…?”

“And—” I take a huge breath and stare at him straight in the eyes. “We’ll get it at the same place.”

“Why is this starting to sound like a bad idea?” He mumbles to himself. 

“Ren.”

“How are you sure I don’t have one on that area already?”

“It’ll be a small one!” 

This time, he doesn’t fight it. He beams widely down at me like he expected this to happen. Maybe he did. Sly bastard.

“I’m really confused if I like Spontaneous Rey better than Cautious Rey.”

I wanted to disagree. This is hardly spontaneous. But I keep my mouth shut and just ride with it. “Too late now,” I say. “You’ve woken the beast.”

“Oh, I have now, haven’t I?”

“Yep,” and I make sure to pop the ‘p’ like he does.

He only grins wider. “Time to put your brave face on, Johnson.”

  
  


“We’ll choose a random date, yeah?”

I nodded, trying to ignore the way her voice shakes a little. “But no year, right?”

“Right,” she replies but she sounded unsure of herself. 

We were aiming for something random, or maybe spontaneity. I guessed that Rey wanted numbers because it would take a less time to put it in and that she could cover it up easily if it was something small. I don’t follow through though, what with the meaninglass day. Instead, I ask Pryde to put in a date that means something to me. 

“Where are we going to put it?” I hear Canady ask her.

Rey turns to me, promptly seated on the other chair across from me. “Ren?”

I think about this carefully. I need to choose somewhere she can experience the least pain. After all, this may be the only time she’ll ever get a tattoo. 

“Upper arm,” I decided. “The inner part should be fine, right?”

“Okay.” And she takes another deep breath. “Do I take my shirt off?”

Canady blushes at this and hands her a rumpled shirt. “It’s clean,” he reassures her. “You can change in the back.”

When she returned, her face was red and wet but it wasn’t splotchy like she cried. Rather, it was as if she dumped her head in a basin of ice cold water. She was grinning from ear to ear too and this worried me a little. Rey looks like she was amplified. 

She looks great in that sleeveless tee though.

“Let’s do this!” 

I lay down just as she did and wait as Pryde and Canady arm themselves with needles that buzz like bees. As soon as mine landed on my skin, I thought about the one resting on my shoulder blade and how, when I first got that one, I thought of never getting another again. Yet here I am. Five minutes in, I hear her scream. 

It wasn’t alarming. It wasn’t just a scream that told me how much pain she was enduring, but rather how she was powering through them. There was a fierceness to it, a power, like a growl from a lioness. 

It’s weird, thinking of her this way, and how automatic my brain shifts to admiring her right away. I’m pathetic. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” but she sounded so uncertain, I had to turn to see her myself. “How are you doing?”

“Pain’s a friend,” I kid. “Hey, Rey?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you sing for me?”

She didn’t hide her surprise. “Now?”

“Part of the list,” I say instead. “What’s your karaoke song?”

She laughs half-heartedly. “It’s uh…’Unbreak My Heart’ by Toni Braxton.”

“I think we have that on tape,” Canady says. “Do you want me to play it for you?”

Rey yelps. “Why not?” She mutters through gritted teeth. “Do you have some alcohol as well?”

Canady shakes his head. “You’ll heal less quickly if you drink.” 

“Rey?” I try catching her attention again.

“Yeah, I’m here,” she says, a bit drowsily this time. 

“‘Don’t leave me in all this pain,’” I start. “‘Don’t leave me out in the rain.’”

Finally, she joins in with a drunk smile on her face. “‘Come back and bring back my smile. Come and take these tears away.’”

I think if she was tearing up earlier, we’ve managed to take it away. By the time we finished the chorus, she was taking the lead. We sang the song a total of eight times before Pryde got tired of us and switched on the stereo.  AC/DC started playing, trying to make our eardrums bleed if not our skin.

I couldn’t care less. All I could hear amidst the whirring of the needles against my skin was her voice, singing to me to unbreak her heart. And by god before this night is up, I will un-break that heart of hers. 


End file.
